


Invincible

by DarkEnigma322



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Medical School, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkEnigma322/pseuds/DarkEnigma322
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader is a med student living in New York City and in her fourth year of Med School. She lives down the hall from Steve Rogers. So, when Bucky comes to live with Steve, the reader finds herself befriending, and potentially falling for, the former Winter Soldier. (Warning: Some language scattered throughout.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meetings in the Hall

You breathed a sigh as you unlocked your apartment door. It had been a rather long day down at the hospital, with the seemingly endless stream of patients that had came through the E.R (which you unwillingly admitted was normal in a large city like New York) You were tired and hungry and the only thing you really wanted to do was to grab some kind of junk food and catch up on (your favorite t.v show) on Netflix. 

“Hmm...maybe I should order some pizza.” you mumbled to yourself, as you opened up the door. 

Just as you were stepping through into your small foyer, you heard voices coming up the stairs outside. You honestly didn't know how you had gotten so lucky. Be it fate, destiny, God, Gods, or the universe, something or someone had certainly smiled down on you when it came to who your neighbor was. 

Steve Rogers a.k.a Captain America smiled at you as he and a couple of other men walked past. “Good evening, (name). How are you?” he asked. 

“Hey, Cap!” you replied. “I'm good, just getting home from my shift.” You motioned toward the purple scrubs you were still wearing. “How are you doing today?” 

“I'm alright.” he said. “I don't believe I've introduced you to my friends. Sam, Bucky, this is (first/last name), she's my neighbor. (Name), this is Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Bucky's going to be staying with me for a while.” 

You, of course, had heard of the both of them. Sam was the now famous “Falcon” that had earned himself a place within the Avengers team and Bucky was the former HYDRA operative known as “The Winter Soldier.” When Steve had first found his old friend, Bucky had been arrested and charged with the many crimes he had committed as the Soldier. 

As recent as just a few days before, there had been quite the media circus surrounding the trial and it's outcome. Bucky had been found “not guilty” by the jury, who had stated that HYDRA's mind control and torture was enough to acquit him of the crimes. Some people were still calling for blood, stating that Mr. Barnes had gotten off scot-free after nearly seventy years of death and destruction doled out by he and his former affiliations. Since the commanders of HYDRA couldn't be identified and held accountable, the Winter Soldier was the next best scapegoat. 

Given that Steve was your neighbor and friend, you had followed the progression of the trial and had been very relieved by the outcome. You were one of the people who, despite the fact that until that very moment you had never met Bucky, didn't believe that he should be held accountable for something he had no control over. 

Sam smiled and held out his hand for a shake, “Nice to meet you, Ms. (last name.)” 

“Likewise, Mr. Wilson.” your replied, shaking his proffered hand. 

Bucky, however, had yet to look at you or even acknowledge your existence, so you stepped forward. “Hello, Mr. Barnes, it's nice to meet you!” you said, ducking your head to try and meet his downcast gaze. 

“It's nice to make your acquaintance.” he mumbled, glancing helplessly up at Steve and then turning away, walking further down the hall to stand anxiously in front of Steve's door. 

“I'm sorry, he's...well, he's going through a lot of changes and adjustments right now.” Steve apologized. 

“Ah, it's fine.” you said, swatting your hand through the air. “I understand.” 

“You heard about the trial, then?” Sam asked. 

“It's been headline news for weeks, so yeah, couldn't really miss it.” you shrugged.

“Do you agree with the jury?” Steve asked, cautiously. 

“I do.” you honestly replied. “Judging by the few details that were released, I don't believe he's guilty of anything more than being mistreated and abused for 70 odd years.” 

Steve released a breath, relieved, “Thank you, (Name.)” 

You smiled, which quickly turned into a frown as your stomach growled, “Well, if you boys will excuse me, I have a date with some pizza, my couch, and my Netflix account.” 

“Of course. Have a good night.” Steve said, laughing. 

“Yeah, I'll see you around.” Sam chimed. 

“Alright, you boys stay out of trouble.” you grinned at them. 

“We'll try our best, ma'am.” Steve mock saluted you, turning to walk away. 

“Oh, and Steve?” you called out. 

“Yes?” 

“If you or Bucky need anything, I'm right next door, all you have to do is ask.” 

“Thanks, (Name.) That's very kind.” Steve replied, knowing that, because of your compassionate heart, you had said that not only on his behalf but even more so on Bucky's. 

“Tell him that not everyone is an asshole these days, Steve.” you said, nodding toward Bucky still standing down the hall, referring to the bombardment of negative comments he had no doubt received. “Goodnight!” 

“I'll try and 'night!” 

You closed your door and set about ordering your pizza.


	2. A Panicked Meeting

It was several days later when you next encountered Bucky. You had a few days off from the hospital before you had to go back on the night shift, so you were scrambling to get your many errands done before your schedule changed. As such, you had just been grocery shopping and was stuck lugging a heavy load of your food up the stairs to your apartment. As you reached your door you glanced down the hall and noticed a figure squatted down in front of Steve's door. 

The person's long hair obscured their face, but judging by the visible metal hand gripping the side of his head, you knew it to be Bucky. As you observed him further, you noticed that his chest was heaving in an almost painful way, as if he couldn't catch his breath, and he was rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. Your medical training kicked in and you realized that he was most likely having a panic attack. 

Setting down your many bags, you approached him, moving as if you were walking toward a wounded animal. “Mr. Barnes?” you called, in a calm voice. 

No response. 

“Mr. Barnes?...Bucky?” you tried. 

At the sound of his name, he lifted his head and you were able to see the unrestrained fear and panic in his striking blue eyes. He was looking in your direction, but it seemed as if he were looking through you rather than at you. 

“Bucky? You remember me, right? I'm (Name), your neighbor from down the hall.” you explained, as you knelt a few feet away from him so that you wouldn't frighten him further. 

Ever so slowly, he nodded. 

“Good! Now, I need you to do something for me, Bucky. I want you to watch and breathe with me, okay?” you drew in a deep breath and so did he. “Good!” you encouraged, as you released the breath. “Again.” you took another breath and watched as he mirrored your movements. “Good! Now you keep doing that, okay?” 

Taking a moment to look around, you noticed the key still in the lock on Steve's door. Standing up from your position, you finished unlocking it and knelt back down in front of him. 

“Bucky, do you think that you can get up and walk?”

Again, he nodded, before slowly standing to his feet and walking through the entrance. Their apartment was arranged in a similar fashion to your own. There was a little foyer inside the door, followed by a short hall that led into the living room, a small kitchen could be accessed through an archway to the left, and the doors to the two bedrooms and bathroom could be found in another short hall to the right. 

Bucky had halted right inside the living room, his breath still coming in short gasps. You walked past him toward the black leather couch in the middle of the room. “Here, sit down...please?” you added, giving him a choice so that he wouldn't feel as if you were commanding him. He moved forward and edged toward the seat at the end, furthest away from where you were standing. “Okay, you concentrate on calming your breathing and I'll get you a glass of water to sip on.” you said, turning toward the kitchen. 

You opened the various cabinets above the sink until you found a glass and held it under the faucet until it was full. As you turned around to go back into the other room, you were startled to find Bucky standing in the doorway, anxiously watching you. His breathing had finally calmed somewhat, but he was looking at the glass in your hand warily. 

“You startled me, Mr. Barnes.” you told him, placing your free hand over your racing heart. 

“I...I wanted to make sure you didn't...put anything in the water.” he explained, with a furrowed brow. 

“Oh, well, if you don't trust that I didn't, you're welcome to pour this out and get some for yourself.” you offered, diplomatically. 

“No, I watched you.” he said, taking the glass from your outstretched hand and taking a sip. 

You gave a small smile as you at first watched him and then looked around you, allowing your thoughts to wander, “Where's Steve?” you asked. 

“On a mission.” was Bucky's reply. 

“Oh.” was your response. “And you're here by yourself?” 

He nodded, staring questioningly at you. 

“You really shouldn't be on your own if you're having panic attacks like you just had, especially after such an ordeal like the trial.” you explained. 

“I'll be fine.” he quickly said.

You scoffed, “How long were you sitting out there before I came along?” 

“I don't know...a while.” he shrugged, not meeting your gaze, but staring down into the remaining water in the glass. 

“Exactly!" you replied. "Would you like to talk about it? About what caused the attack?” 

He shook his head sharply, before replying in a short tone, “No.” 

“Alright, I won't pressure you.” You put up your hands in a placating gesture. “If you don't want to talk, then you don't have to.” 

He continued to sip his water and stare at you, as you bit your lip and looked uncomfortably around at the rather bare kitchen. 

“Have you eaten?” you suddenly asked. 

Again, he wordlessly shook his head. 

You remained quiet for a moment, contemplating what you were about to say before speaking, “Okay, how about this, since I don't want to leave you here by yourself, how about you come over to my place? I'll fix us some food and we can watch a movie or something, take your mind off of things.” 

He looked warily at you and you could tell that he was debating upon whether he could trust you or not, so you kept your expression open and inviting. Several awkward moments passed in this manner before, “Errol Flynn?” he abruptly asked. 

You looked at him confused, “I'm sorry?” 

“Do you have any Errol Flynn movies?”

You smiled a small smile, “You know what, I think that I might have one buried somewhere deep in my movie collection...if I remember rightly.” 

“Okay.” he nodded in agreement, sitting the half empty glass on the kitchen counter. 

“Alright, follow me.” you said, walking past him and back out into the outside hall where you had left your forgotten groceries. Taking out your key and unlocking your door, you looked back to find him right behind you, “Let me just get these inside,” you said, leaning down to pick up the bags, only to realize that Bucky had already grabbed them all with his left hand and stood waiting. 

“Oh, you didn't have to do that.” you said, as you opened the door and let him in first, directing him toward your own kitchen, where he placed the food on the counter. “Thank you.” you smiled. 

“Your welcome.” he replied, quietly. 

A moment of silence passed between you, while you put away your various groceries, “So, any preferences for the food?” you asked, breaking the quiet. 

“There's more than one option?” he asked. 

“Of course! My goodness, what has Steve been feeding you?” you asked, playfully.

“Something he calls, 'takeout.'” he replied, with another furrow of his brow. 

“Well, takeout's good every now and again, but I prefer cooking for myself when I can. And this so happens to be one of those nights. So, what's it to be? We could have spaghetti, baked chicken, I've got some microwavable TV dinners, if you'd prefer one of those...” 

“Um...spaghetti, I guess.” he interrupted. 

“Okay, that I can do.” you agreed, taking out the proper cooking equipment that you would need. Then you remembered how concerned he had been over the idea of you possibly putting something in a simple glass of water, so you turned to him and asked, “Would you like to help?” 

He paused for a moment, his gaze looking rather distant as if he were trying to remember something, “I don't believe I was ever much of a cook.” he said. 

“That's okay, you can do the easy stuff...” you replied, assigning him some small task. You tried to keep him away from anything sharp in case he had another attack. Soon enough your food was done and you were dishing it out on two plates and then filling some glasses with (your favorite drink). 

You handed a plate and a glass to him and you both made your way into the living room, sitting everything down on the coffee table in front of the couch. You then began to examine your movie collection. You seemed to remember buying an old Errol Flynn movie once, because the cover and the summary on the back had intrigued you. Now you just had to find it. 

“Aha!” you cried, a minute later, holding up the case to the movie. “The Adventures of Robin Hood. How's that one sound?” 

“I think I liked that one.” Bucky replied, before stuffing another bite of spaghetti into his mouth.

“You know, I've had this for a long time and I don't think I've ever sat down and watched it.” you stated, shaking your head, as you opened it. 

“You bought something that you didn't intend to watch?” he looked at you, confused. 

“Yeah, it happens. Impulse buying and what not.” you shrugged and he looked even more confused. “Welcome to the 21st century, Mr. Barnes.” You turned to put the disc into its proper place in the player. 

“Bucky.” you heard him say softly. 

“Pardon?” you asked, hitting play on the remote control and then turned around to face him as the old fashioned Warner Bros. logo appeared on the television screen. 

“Call me Bucky.” he repeated, quietly. 

“Okay, Bucky. But only if you call me (Name).” 

He nodded, “Alright,...(Name).” he said your name, testing it out. 

The opening credits of the movie began to roll and you settled yourself down on your end of your couch to eat. For the next hour and a half, you lost yourself in the story of Robin Hood. Occasionally, you would glance over at the man sitting beside you and, after one such glance, you were surprised to see a small smile tugging at the corner of Bucky's lips, his eyes alight as he watched the old film. You had to admit that you enjoyed it too. It may have been an old adaption, but you realized that it had its charms. 

As the movie ended, you said as much. “...Though my favorite Robin Hood adaption is and shall always be, 'Men in Tights.'” you joked. 

“What's that?” Bucky asked, looking rather horrified by the idea of men wearing tights. 

You gave him a rather suspicious grin and made your way over to your movie shelf. You pulled out the case that read, “Robin Hood: Men in Tights” and handed it to him. 

“It's a comedy movie made by a director called Mel Brooks.” you explained. 

“Oh.” he said in realization, turning the case in his hands and reading the description on the back. “Maybe...maybe we could watch it sometime?” he suggested, in a small voice. 

“Sure!” you agreed, once again surprised. You smiled a friendly smile and then said, “I would let you borrow it, but I didn't see anything that even remotely looked like a Blu-ray player in your apartment. So, unless Steve has one stashed somewhere, I doubt you would have a way of playing it.” 

He nodded, handing it back to you. “He's due back tonight.” he said. 

“Who? Steve?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” 

“I would appreciate it if...well, if you didn't...” he trailed off, sounding uncertain. 

“If I didn't tell him that you had a panic attack in the hallway?” you guessed. 

“Yes. He'll just worry.” 

You internally debated with yourself. Medically speaking you knew that you should tell Steve so that he could make sure that Bucky was receiving the proper care for his attacks, if he was receiving care at all. “Do you see a therapist?” you finally asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was one of the stipulations of my release.” 

“Have you told your therapist about your attacks?”

He was quiet for a minute, “No. I haven't.” 

You sighed, “Okay, here's the deal...if you tell your doctor about your attacks, I won't tell Steve.” 

He looked troubled by this. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“If I tell my therapist about them, he'll want to put me on medication...and I don't want to take anything.” 

You sighed, you could understand his hesitation. The man had basically been held captive for over 70 years, having God knew what being pumped into his system at every chance, of course he would be hesitant to take anything else, “Okay.” you gave into his request. “I won't tell anyone. But here's what I am going to do. I'm going to give you my cell phone number and, whenever you feel an attack coming on, or even if you just want to talk, you call me, alright? Even if I'm at work, I'll see that you called and call you back.” you suggested, reaching for the notepad and pen that you kept by the apartment's old landline phone. “You do have a cell phone, right?” 

He nodded. 

“Okay, good.” you said, as you wrote down your number. 

“Why?” Bucky asked, quietly. 

“Sorry?” 

“Why would you help me?” 

You looked at him for a moment in silence, “Because you deserve to be helped, Bucky.” you explained, quietly. 

Another very slight smile appeared at the corner of his lips. 

“Besides, you should consider yourself lucky, a guy usually has to buy me a drink before I give him my number.” you joked, grinning as you handed him the note.

“I just might have to do that, doll.” he replied, smiling fully for the first time. Then the smile faded and he looked rather surprised at himself, almost as if he was uncertain as to whether that line had actually came out of his mouth. 

You decided to just go with it and laughed, playfully narrowing your eyes, “God, I bet you were a charmer back in the day.” 

He shyly looked down with a slight blush coloring his cheeks, “Steve says that I was, but I don't really remember all that much.” 

You sat yourself back down beside him, “I think you will in time.” you said, sobering. “Just don't rush things. The healing process can take a while, especially after something like you've been through.” 

He nodded again. 

There was a short silence between you, then, “You said that I could call you at work...Can I ask what you do?” he asked, slight curiosity coloring his voice. 

“I'm a doctor. Or at least hoping to be. I'm in my fourth year of medical school and they make us train on location at a nearby hospital. Of course, I ended up getting the emergency room rotation.” you grumbled, as you finished your explanation. 

“Sounds like hard work.” 

“Well, for the most part it's non-life-threatening stuff, like bee stings and broken arms, but God forbid there's a car accident or something, that's when it gets hard.” 

“But you enjoy it?” 

You paused for a moment, contemplating, “Yeah, I do. I like helping people. My parents always said I was a natural at it, since I was always bringing home strays and injured animals and taking care of them. They thought it was only natural that I would move up from that to actual humans. I suppose I could've been a veterinarian.” You laughed quietly at yourself. 

“How long have you lived in New York?” Bucky asked, with a cute tilt of his head. 

“I've been here for a few years now. I came for college and then decided to attend med school here. I guess I kinda fell in love with the city.” you smiled, remembering a fact that you had learned in high school about Captain America. “You and Steve are originally from here, right?” 

This time a true smile, though a nostalgic one, appeared on his lips, “Yeah, we grew up in Brooklyn.” 

“I can't even imagine what that would be like, especially in the period you grew up in.” 

Bucky nodded, but remained quiet, not commenting. After a minute of silence passed, he asked, “Have you ever been to Coney Island?” 

It surprised you that he seemed to be talking and opening up a bit more. When you had met him in the hall it had seemed like earning his trust would indeed be a monumental task, but you were glad that that didn't seem to be the case...not where you were concerned at least. “No, I've never had the time to check it out.” you answered. 

“I don't know if it's still the same as it was, but when Steve and I were young, at least from the little that I do remember, it was one of our favorite haunts. That and Rockaway beach.” 

“I haven't been to either of them.” 

Bucky once again glanced shyly down at his hands, “Maybe...we could go someday...I mean all of us...” he said, including Steve and everyone else in his small circle of acquaintances, so that he felt less awkward about his choice of words. 

“Yeah, maybe.” you grinned again. 

Suddenly there were footsteps in the hall outside and Steve's voice could be heard talking with Sam. “It sounds like Steve's made it back.” 

“Yeah, I should probably go.” Bucky replied, standing up from the couch. “Thanks...um...for dinner and...for helping me out.” 

“Your welcome.” you held out your hand for a shake. 

He looked at it hesitantly for a few seconds and then slowly reached his own out. You shook hands, his enveloping yours in its warmth, and then you walked him to the door. “Remember what I said, Bucky. If you need me all you have to do is call...or you're more than welcome to knock on my door.” 

“I'll remember.” he replied, as he crossed the threshold of your apartment. “Good night, (Name).” 

“Good night, Bucky.” 

You smiled softly, as you closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me say that I apologize if I got anything about Med school or panic attacks wrong. I'm not in Med school and I don't have panic attacks, so I can't really speak from experience. So sorry. 
> 
> Now, I have to say thanks to everyone for their feedback! It is truly appreciated! The kudos and the comments! Thank you! 
> 
> I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Since I actually still have to write the next one, it might be a little while before I update again. In other words, it probably won't be as quick as this one. 
> 
> But anyway, thanks for reading and I'll shut up now before I begin to ramble even more. Please comment or leave Kudos at your leisure. =) 
> 
> ~DarkEnigma


	3. An Injured Meeting

“So do I believe justice was served? No, I don't believe justice was served! The Winter Soldier shouldn't have been allowed to simply walk away from everything that he did! In my opinion, he should have been given the...” you hurriedly hit the mute button on your remote control and changed the channel on your television, before you could hear any more of that blow hard (least favorite talk show host)'s ranting. 

You had spent the last week on the night shift at the hospital with just two, non-consecutive nights off in that entire length of time and you finally had a couple of days in a row where you didn't have to work. You had thought that you would begin your first evening off by watching some t.v. But after flipping through the channels and hearing almost the same opinion on each, you had nearly given up.

“Really?!” you skeptically asked the screen, flipping from channel to channel randomly. “Ugh! People need to move on already!” 

Shaking your head, you grabbed your empty (coffee/tea/hot chocolate) cup and got up from your couch. If you were going to listen to such bull, then you were going to need more caffeine. It was as you were walking into your kitchen that you heard a loud crash and a raised voice that sounded suspiciously like Bucky's. 

You furrowed your brow, listening as you refilled your cup. You hoped everything was alright down the hall. Since you hadn't heard from Bucky after he left your apartment the night of his panic attack, you had assumed that he hadn't had another one. Or so you hoped, at least. You knew that you had placed a lot faith in the idea that he would call you if he had, but now that you were listening to the ruckus coming from Steve's apartment you weren't so certain. 

As you settled once again onto your couch, you heard hurried footsteps pass your front door. “Sam! I'm glad you're here!” you heard Steve call a moment after. You fought the urge to go to your door and see if everything was okay. You certainly didn't want to intrude or seem nosy. So instead, you went back to your random channel surfing, until you found some kind of movie, a/an (favorite movie genre) film as it would seem. 

'Well, I guess it's better than nothing.' you thought and situated yourself into a more comfortable position to watch it. About thirty minutes into it, there came a sharp knock on your door. 

“Coming!” you called, hitting pause, and reluctantly getting up to make your way toward the entrance, where upon opening your door you were greeted by a distraught looking Captain America. 

“Hey, Steve, what's up?” you asked. 

“(Name), Bucky's had a bit of an episode and, well, he managed to hurt himself. Do you think that you could take a look at him? He's calmed down a bit, but he's still on edge and well, he's bleeding and I...”

“Steve?” you interrupted his rambling. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded, taking a breath. 

“Good! Now let me grab my first aid kit and I'll have a look at him, okay?” 

“Alright, thank you, so much, (Name.)” 

You retrieved everything you thought you might need and met Steve in the hall. “How bad is his injury?” you asked, wanting to make sure you were properly equipped. 

“He sliced his right hand open on a piece of glass. I'm no medic, so I don't really know that much, but Sam said that it would probably need stitches. He wanted to take Bucky to the hospital, but he out right refused to go, said that I should probably get you.” 

You were surprised, but not as much as Steve seemed to be, so you guessed that Bucky really hadn't told him about his previous attack and your involvement. It had been a little over a week since that had occurred and now he was asking for your help. 

“Thanks for doing this, (Name.) It's odd that he asked for you, I didn't think that you two had interacted at all since that first meeting.” Steve said, as you moved down the hall toward his apartment. 

“Um...” you began, you were going to tell him about what had happened while he was away, but remembered that you had told Bucky that you wouldn't, so instead you told him the partial truth, “Yeah, I invited him over for dinner while you were gone last week. We ate some spaghetti and watched an old movie. In fact, that's where he was when you got home.” 

“Really?” Steve asked, seemingly shocked at the idea. 

“Uh huh.” 

“He didn't say anything about it.” 

“Maybe I was just too terrible company to mention.” you joked. 

“I doubt that.” Steve replied, with a small smile, as he opened the door and motioned for you to go first.

You heard Bucky before you saw him, he was cursing (or at least you thought he was) in what you assumed was Russian, then, “Ouch! That hurt!” he grumbled, in English. 

“Hey, man, I'm doing the best I can here, okay?” Sam replied, just as grumpily. 

“Sure you are.” Bucky said, sarcasm coating his tone. 

“The cavalry's here, Sam.” Steve said, beside you. 

“Thank God! Maybe he'll let you do something for his stubborn ass.” 

Bucky glared at him as he got up and moved toward you. 

“How bad is it?” you asked Sam. 

“It looks like a pretty deep cut and it's still bleeding freely.” 

You moved toward Bucky and seated yourself beside him, “Can I see your hand?” you asked, as you opened your kit and slid on a pair of rubber gloves. He slowly removed the cloth that had been stemming the blood flow, reached the appendage forward, and settled it into your grasp. 

The cut ran from the middle of his palm toward the back of his hand, in between his thumb and forefinger. It was deep and would in fact need stitches, as Sam had guessed. “How did you do this?” you asked. 

Bucky looked ashamed for a moment before replying, “I...had another attack.”

“Another?” you heard Steve ask softly.

Bucky ignored him and continued, “A flashback this time and I broke the table...” he motioned toward what had once been a glass coffee table. “I tried to hurt Steve with a piece of it...ended up slicing my own hand up something fierce.” 

You nodded, sympathetically, “Well, I'm sorry to say it, but Sam was right, this does need stitching. You need to go to a hospital, Bucky.” 

His reaction was almost instantaneous, “No! No hospitals!” he snapped, jerking his hand from your grasp, as his breathing began to quicken. 

“Bucky.” you said, calmly. “Look at me, okay...I can do the stitches myself, but I would be better equipped if we were in a sterile environment like the hospital. I would have access to betadine and I could numb your hand with lidocane so you wouldn't feel any pain or anything.” 

Before you could even finish your speech, he was shaking his head, “No! I'm not going to a hospital, just do it here.” 

“Buck...” Steve began. 

“NO!” he replied, firmly. 

“Okay,” you said, throwing your hands up, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated. “It's okay...you don't have to go to the hospital if you don't want to. I can manage here.” 

He released a relieved sigh. 

Since he refused to go to a hospital, you began to prepare for the procedure there on Steve's couch. “Steve, do you have another table or something, somewhere I could set up my equipment and supplies?”  


Steve looked around the room, then grabbed a small end table and set it before you. “Thanks.” you said, as you set up everything you would need. After changing gloves again, you began the process, “Alright, this may sting a little.” you warned Bucky, as you poured some hydrogen peroxide out onto a cotton swap and began dabbing gently at the wound.

Bucky hissed through his teeth. 

“I'm sorry, Bucky.” you apologized. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” he nodded. 

“Alright, hold that on there...Do you have a large bowl or pan, Steve? I need to irrigate the cut to make sure there's no glass or foreign matter in it and I don't want to wet your furniture.” 

“Uh, yeah, let me go and get something.” Steve said, sounding more than willing to help. Soon enough, he returned with a bowl and placed it on the couch between you and Bucky. 

“Thanks again.” you replied, as you opened a small bottle of sterile water, filled an irrigating syringe, and slowly began to cleanse the wound. “Alright, it doesn't look like there's any glass or anything in it.” you said. By that time the bleeding had lessened and you could see, much to your surprise, that it was already in the very early stages of healing. “I forgot that I was dealing with a super soldier.” you said, with a smile. 

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked, curiously, from across the room. 

“The healing process has already started.” you explained to him, then turned back to Bucky. “You're still going to need stitches though, at least for a couple of days and then I can take them out.” 

As you opened a suture kit and started threading the needle, you noticed Steve standing across from you looking rather at a loss as to what to do with himself. “Steve, since this is going to take a few minutes, why don't you and Sam start cleaning up that broken glass?” you suggested. 

“Right, of course.” he said, jumping at the opportunity. “Sam, can you grab the broom?” 

“Thanks.” Bucky said suddenly, a minute later. 

“For what?” 

“For giving him something to do, he was standing over there looking like a lost golden retriever puppy.” he grumbled quietly, surprising you and making you laugh all at once. You hadn't expected such a line from him. “And for understanding...about the hospital...and for doing this.” He continued, nodding toward his hand. 

In the background you heard Steve mumble, “I am not a puppy.”

“Your welcome.” you grinned, as you started sewing up his cut. You took it slow, being very methodical about your job. “I'm not hurting you, am I?” you asked, your grin fading. 

“No.” he shook his head. 

“Good. I'm not used to doing this without some kind of numbing agent.” 

“It's okay...I've had worse.” he explained and you shuddered inwardly just thinking about what he could mean by that. 

“So, like I asked the last time, do you want to talk about whatever it was that triggered your flashback?” you asked, trying to strike up a conversation. 

Bucky remained quiet, so you glanced up at him, afraid that you might have crossed a line in your questioning. He was staring at you, a look of contemplation on his face. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked.” you apologized. 

“It was the t.v.” he replied, abruptly. 

You looked back at him and raised your brow, “You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to.” 

He paused for a moment, “It was some kind of talk show, they were talking about the trial and showing pictures...” he explained, staring down at the stitches you had already applied to his hand, watching as you added more. 

Now it was your turn to be quiet. You didn't really know how to reply. You didn't want to seem cold and heartless by saying everything that he had done as the Winter Soldier didn't matter. But you also didn't want to add to his guilt by saying that it did. You finally settled on the idea of reminding him that he had been controlled, “You know, nothing that you did was by your own choice.” 

“I know that." he replied, in a defeated tone. "Steve reminds me of that all the time. But I still did it.” 

You furrowed your brow, as you finally tied the last knot in the thread on his hand, “I can't even begin to comprehend everything that you went through, Bucky. Goodness knows that I don't have any experiences that compare. But I can say that the only way that you're going to recover and heal from your ordeal, is if you forgive yourself first.” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but you held up a hand. 

“Just hear me out.” you said, pausing to gather your thoughts, as you began to wrap a bandage around his hand and wrist. “I'm not saying that it will be an instant process nor am I telling you to forget everything. Yes, you did those things and yes, you'll always carry some manner of guilt for your actions. But would you have done them if HYDRA hadn't had control of you?”

He quickly shook his head. 

“Everything that you did, everything that you endured, that was HYDRA's decision. And yes, they may have used you as a tool for their schemes, but that doesn't mean that you can't start making your own decisions and living your own life now.” you said, passionately. “Besides, what better way is there to stick it to those HYDRA assholes?” 

That earned you a small twitch of his lips. 

“She's right, Buck.” Steve said, softly. You hadn't realized that he and Sam had been listening to your speech. 

You smiled over at Steve, then continued, “You have friends who care about you, Bucky. Don't be afraid or ashamed to ask for help when you need it...after all, I gave you my phone number for a reason.” you winked at him. 

“Just so you know,” Sam cut in. “When a pretty lady like (Name) gives you her phone number, it's a big deal these days, man.” 

“It wasn't that kind of reason, Mr. Wilson.” you replied, blushing. 

“You know you can call me Sam, right? I mean you call Steve, Steve, and Mr. Freeze here, Bucky.” 

You laughed, “Of course, Sam! I just didn't want to seem to forward and assume that we were friends after meeting you all of one time.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course we're friends, you're willing to put up with these two, that's enough to make you one of my best friends in my book.” he said, as Steve rolled his eyes and smiled behind him.

“That's certainly good to know, Sam.” you smiled, then turned back to Bucky. “You're all stitched and bandaged, Bucky. I'll need to check it in a couple of days, but from what I already saw you should be quite healed by then. You can change the bandage as needed. Just don't get it wet or dirty.” 

Bucky nodded but remained silent as you stood from your seat. 

“Well, I guess I'll head back over to my place.” you said, replacing the unused items into your first aid kit and gathering the used stuff so it could be thrown away. As you were about to step away from the couch to do that, you felt something cold gently grasp your wrist, looking down you saw that it was Bucky's metal hand. 

You glanced up at him out of curiosity and your eyes met, “Thank you, (Name.)” he whispered. 

Taking your free hand you placed it over the metal appendage at your wrist and smiled. You knew he wasn't only thanking you again for what you had just done, but also for your kind words of wisdom. “Your welcome, Bucky.” 

A moment passed and then Steve cleared his throat, “You know, (Name), you don't have to hurry away. You could stay for dinner...unless you have somewhere to be.” 

“Oh, I...I don't want to intrude on your evening, Steve.” you stuttered, as you reluctantly looked away from Bucky. 

“It's not an intrusion, if you're invited.” Steve replied. 

You looked back to Bucky, “It wouldn't make you uncomfortable if I stayed, would it?” 

“No,” he shook his head for emphasis. 

You were quiet for a minute, contemplating your decision, “Okay, I guess I'm staying for dinner.” you grinned again. “What is for dinner anyway?” 

Steve nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I...hadn't exactly thought that far ahead.” 

“Please, don't say takeout.” you heard Bucky mumble under his breath. 

“Takeout?” Steve finally asked. 

Trying to withhold your laughter, “That would be fine with me, Steve.” you replied, after all it wouldn't be polite to disagree. 

“Sam?” 

“Yeah, I could eat some good (favorite takeout food), right about now.” 

“Buck?” 

“Sounds fine.” Bucky reluctantly replied. 

“Alright then.” Steve pulled out his cell phone and walked into the kitchen to order. Sam followed along, reminding him of random food items to add to the menu. 

“You know, if you didn't want takeout, you should've told Steve.” 

“As long as it's edible.” he shrugged, but then added in a rush, “Though I did prefer your cooking over it.” 

“Now that's astonishing,” you replied. “I mean yeah, I like cooking for myself, but I'm not much of a cook, you know?” 

“That spaghetti the other day was the best meal I've ate in a long time.” he complimented. 

You flushed in embarrassment, “Now stop it, you're making me blush.” 

“That was the idea, doll.” he replied, softly. 

You shook your head at his surprising antics, “Like I said, you're a charmer.” 

“Oh, if you think he's charming now, you should've seen him back in the day, (Name). All the girls were swooning over him.” Steve said, as he and Sam reentered the room. 

Bucky suddenly seemed uncomfortable and looked away from you. Furrowing your brow, you turned to Steve, “Did you get the food ordered?” you asked, changing the subject from Bucky's past to something else. You hoped that by doing so, it might ease Bucky's abrupt bout of discomfort. 

“Yeah, it'll be here in about 25 minutes.” 

“Well, what's to be done in the mean time?” you wondered. 

“Movie?” Sam asked, raising a brow. 

“Sure, but what movie?” Steve agreed.

It was then that you had an idea, a most mischievous idea, “Sam,” you smiled your suspicious smile again. “How much would you hate me if I introduced them to 'Castaway'?” 

“Why would I...Oh, no! No, no, no! I don't need them running around screaming, 'Wilson', every chance they get.” 

“What?” Steve asked in confusion. 

“You'll understand the reference once you've seen the movie, Steve.” 

“I guess that means we have to watch it.” Steve grinned. 

“You are an evil lady, you know that?” Sam grumbled, as you excitedly as you took Steve's remote and logged into Netflix, searching until you found the movie. 

That was how you found yourself wedged between Steve and Bucky on the couch, watching as Tom Hanks tried to survive on a deserted island, with nothing but a volleyball named Wilson for a companion. The food arrived eventually and you happily ate your part, glad to be in the presence of friends, instead of your usual lonely evening at home. 

As the movie was close to its climax, you felt your eyes droop in exhaustion. After your heavy work load of night shifts for the past week, you were very tired. So much so, in fact, you found yourself drifting off to sleep. 

It was as the credits began to roll that you woke, feeling something hard pressed into your cheek. It took you a moment to realize that you had fallen asleep and ended up using Bucky's left shoulder for a pillow. Sitting up entirely, you glanced over at him, only to find him watching you. 

“I'm sorry, I guess I fell asleep on you, Bucky.” 

“It's alright.” he replied, with a tiny quirk of his lips. 

You stood from your position and stretched as you yawned. “What did you boys think?” you asked. 

“I thought it was a good movie. What about you, Wilson?” Steve turned to Sam, grinning. 

“And here we go...” Sam complained. 

You laughed as you gathered your first aid kit into your arms, “Well, seeing as how I'm absolutely exhausted, I believe I'll take my leave for the evening, gentlemen.” you said. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Steve give Bucky a look, “You're not going to let a lady walk home by herself, are you, Buck?” 

“Steve, I live right down the hall, I'm pretty sure I can make it there without trouble.” you laughed. 

“Still it wouldn't be polite.” 

Bucky floundered for a moment, “Right...I'll uh...I'll walk you to your door.” he said, as he stood.

“You really don't have to, Bucky.” 

“Like Steve said,...it wouldn't be polite...if I didn't.” he said in a nervously broken manner. 

“Alright, come on, I'll let you satisfy your 1940's etiquette.” you smirked. 

You left Steve's apartment and the both of you walked slowly and silently down the hall to your door. 

“Thanks for walking me back, Bucky. I don't know what I would've done without you, that little mouse in the hall back there looked rather dubious.” you joked. 

Bucky granted you with a genuine smile, “I'm sorry, I know times have changed, Steve knows it too, but...” he trailed. 

“But it's hard to break old habits, even if you don't properly remember them. It's okay. I get it.” you finished for him. 

“Thanks again, for everything.” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, as you unlocked your door. 

“Your welcome! And remember that you have my cell number, call me when you need me!” you reminded.

“I promise I will.” he replied. 

You both stood in an awkward silence for a moment, until you decided to do something. Something that took the both of you by surprise, though Bucky even more so. You stepped forward, threw your arms around his waist, and hugged him. 

As you pressed your cheek into his chest, you heard his heart beat quicken. At first, he stood stiffly in your embrace, but then slowly, very slowly, he raised his arms and encircled them around you, squeezing you gently. 

“Good night, Bucky.” you said, almost reluctantly stepping back out of his warm embrace and into your apartment. 

“Good night, (Name.)” he replied, as you smiled and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you all enjoyed it. Hopefully I didn't gross any of you out with the stitches bit. lol Also, I just had to include the movie Castaway. It's not even one of my favorite Tom Hanks movies, but every time I hear Sam's name, I think of that scene where Mr. Hanks' character is screaming for Wilson as he floats away. I'm just weird, I guess. *shrugs* 
> 
> Anyway, if there's something that you would like to see in a future chapter, like a place that should be visited or food that should be tried or something, leave it in the comments and I'll consider putting it in. (F.Y.I. I've already got it planned for them to eventually go to Coney Island. (Thank you, FrenchMacaroon for the idea.)) But as I'll shut up now. Leave kudos and comments, if you wish. =) 
> 
> ~DarkEnigma


	4. A Tired Meeting

You scrubbed a hand over your face, groaning. It had been a long night at work and your shift still wasn't over. It had been one of those nights where all Hell seemed to break loose. A shift that resulted in a good workout of running from patient to patient, with lots of screaming children and a host of complaining adults. 

Thankfully, since it was currently 3 o'clock in the morning things had finally seemed to calm down in the E.R. “Hey, Andy?” you called to your friend and co-worker. “I'm gonna take my break now. Can you guys handle everything?” 

“Yeah, we've got this.” he replied, swatting a hand in your direction. 

“Be back in 15.” you said, as you made your way into the employee lounge. 

You didn't really feel like eating so you sat yourself down at a table and sighed tiredly. You pulled your phone from your pocket and was surprised to find that you had received a call from a number you didn't recognize. Thinking and hoping that it might have been Bucky, you quickly dialed it back. 

You found that you were right when Bucky's troubled voice said, “Hello?” after several rings. 

“Bucky? You called me?” you asked. You were surprised that he actually had followed through on his promise and called you, you hadn't really heard from either he or Steve in a few days. In fact, the only contact you had had with them was the short visit to remove Bucky's stitches a day after his flashback and attack. 

“Yeah, I just...I needed to talk to someone.” 

What you didn't know was that Bucky had woken up from a nightmare and, without really thinking about it, he had grabbed your scribbled note and had dialed your number. He didn't really know why he had or why he hadn't just woken up Steve. After all, he had only been appeasing you when he had said that he would call, but tonight he just needed someone to talk to...someone that he hadn't once tried to kill. 

Since you hadn't picked up, he had been sitting in the corner of his room, with his fingers tangled in his long hair, having yet another sleepless night, plagued by flashbacks and terrible memories. When he would close his eyes, he could hear the buzz of electricity in his ears, the sound of his own screams in his head, and the rush of air on his skin as if he were falling again. So there he sat, trembling, alone in the dark. 

His thoughts had began to race, he had felt the now familiar feeling of panic settling in his gut and his breathing had began to come in short gasps. He had been about to go and wake up Steve when you had called him back. 

“I'm sorry I didn't answer, I'm at work. It's been hectic down here tonight, so I was probably with a patient.” you explained, only Bucky seemed to take your explanation a different way. 

“Oh, I'm sorry I bothered you then.” he replied, sounding rather defeated. 

“What? No, no! It's no bother, Bucky!” you replied, shaking your head, despite the fact that he couldn't see you. “I'm on break now, so we can talk if you still need to.” 

All was quiet on the other end of the line until, “Okay.” he said, quietly. 

At his answer, you tried to think of something to say, “Well, do you wanna talk about why you're awake at such an ungodly hour?” 

“Um...not really.” he replied. He couldn't bring himself to talk about it all, he just wanted to forget about it, the buzz, the screams, the rush, even if it was only for a little while. 

You guessed then that it had probably been some kind of a nightmare, a very bad one if his tone of voice was anything to judge by, that had woken him. You knew that you needed to take his mind off of it. “Okay...what's your favorite color?” you asked, suddenly. 

So suddenly in fact that Bucky's mind spun with the quick change of subject. “What?” he asked. 

“What's your favorite color?” you asked again.

“What's that got to do with anything?” he asked, rather confused.

“Well, it was my apparently bad attempt at taking your mind off of whatever is bothering you. But...” 

“Blue.” he finally answered, interrupting you. 

You smiled, “Blue's nice, it always reminds me of the sky on a clear, sunny day.” 

“Yeah.” Bucky choked out in reply. 

You could tell that he was currently having a lot of issues, “Now you're supposed to ask me a question.” you urged. 

“Um...uh, what's your favorite animal?” he asked. 

“Hmm. There's so many that I like! But my absolute favorite is a/an (favorite exotic animal.) I've always liked them since I was little. Always wanted one for a pet...but I don't think that would've worked out very well...” you chuckled. 

Bucky released a choked laugh at your enthusiasm, “Your turn.” he said. 

You scrambled your brain to try and think of a question. There were so many things that you couldn't ask him, so many things that he probably wouldn't remember, so you settled for something that he might, “What's your favorite Errol Flynn movie?” 

A contemplative silence filled the line for a few moments, whilst Bucky wracked his abused mind for an answer, “I liked the one we watched, 'The Adventures of Robin Hood', but my favorite and Steve's was always 'Captain Blood.'” 

“Really? I haven't seen that one. Can you tell me about it?” you asked. 

“Sure.” Bucky replied and then proceeded to tell you the plot of the old movie with surprising clarity. By the end, you could tell that he was a bit more in control of himself than he had been. 

“It sounds like a good movie. We just might have to watch it sometime.” you suggested, after he had finished. 

“I'd like that, doll.” he said, softly. 

“You feeling better?” you asked, cautiously. 

“Yeah...a bit.” he replied. 

“Think you could sleep?” 

He was quiet for a moment, “I don't know.” he was sounding a bit troubled again. 

“Hey, it's okay if you can't. There's always time to sleep later.” you said. 

“When's your break over?” he asked, abruptly. 

You glanced at your watch and grimaced, you had lost track of time as you had talked to Bucky, “Well, it was actually over about five minutes ago.” 

“I...I don't want to keep you...from your work.” he said. 

“Hey, it's alright, my co-workers are always nagging at me to take longer breaks anyway. Besides, I wouldn't have told you to call me at work if it wasn't okay.” 

“Yeah? But you said it was busy there.” 

“It was. But it's calmed down now...thankfully! Goodness, I didn't realize how much I actually needed a break until now.” you huffed. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“Yeah! Let me tell you, Bucky, you haven't experienced fear until you have the mother of a five year old asthmatic kid threaten to do you bodily harm if you don't help her child, 'Right this instant!'” you joked, your voice changing pitch at the end to demonstrate the woman's tone. 

Bucky laughed, “Sounds pretty vicious.” 

“Believe me, she was! I was scared for my livelihood for a moment there. The kid got to feeling better, though, thank goodness.” 

“I remember Mrs. Rogers used to be that way by Steve, whenever she would have to call a doctor for him.” 

“Yeah? It's hard to imagine Steve, of all people, being a tiny, 90 pound, asthmatic.” you smiled, glad to hear that he seemed to be remembering more of his past. 

“He was tiny, but the fat head was always getting into fights that I'd have to finish. I swear he was like a...I don't know...what are those little lap dogs called?” 

“A chihuahua?” you guessed, trying and failing to hold back a snort. 

“Yeah, those things...he was like one of those! He was tiny but tried to be fierce.” 

You laughed, “Oh, God! I can't believe you just described pre-serum Steve as a chihuahua!” 

“It's an accurate description, trust me.” he replied, in a grim tone.

“So he went from tiny chihuahua to overgrown golden retriever? What does that make you then?” 

“I thought that would be obvious, doll.” 

“Not really.” 

“I'm a Siberian husky, of course.” 

“Bucky Barnes, did you just make a joke at your own expense?” you questioned, after all it had been revealed during the trial that he had been kept in Siberia for a number of years during his stint as the Soldier.

“I tried to.” he said, rather shyly. 

“Well, you seem less anxious than you were when we started talking.” 

“Yeah, talking to you has helped, doll.” 

You were grinning at his nickname for you when you suddenly heard a knock on the break-room door, it was one of your co-workers who motioned to their watch in a questioning gesture. You threw up one finger silently telling them that you would be back in a minute. 

Turning your attention back to the conversation at hand, an idea came to you. You figured the best way to keep Bucky from his troubling thoughts was to give him something to look forward to,“I just had a thought, since we are both passing a sleepless night and I get off of work at seven, how about you come and walk me home and we could grab some breakfast somewhere?” 

“I don't know. It's probably not a good idea for me to be out...in public.” he said, hesitantly. 

“Well, that's okay.” you replied. “If you don't want to come out, how about I bring breakfast to you? I could swing by my usual breakfast joint and pick something up. You could come over to my place and we could eat. What do you say?” 

“Um...sure...I think I'd like that.” he replied, sounding a bit more chipper than he had. 

“Awesome! So what's your favorite breakfast food? The diner where I plan on going has a bit of everything.” 

“Flapjacks...with syrup.” he replied. 

“Okay. I'll be sure to get you a big stack of them with lots of syrup. Do you want to come to my apartment or do you want me to come by yours?”

“I'll come to you.” he said. 

“Alright, say about 7:30ish?” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay. But in the mean time, Bucky, do try and get some rest, if you can.” 

“I'll try...” you heard him yawn. “See you in a few hours.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you then, Bucky.” you replied. “Good night!” 

“'Night.” he mumbled, before hanging up.

The rest of your shift flew by and you yawned as you stepped out into the early morning air. You made your way down the sidewalk, through the early morning foot traffic, toward your favorite restaurant. You were a regular patron at this point. Since it was rather close to the hospital, you would often stop by on your way home to grab something to eat. Nearly everything on their menu was delicious! 

You joined the queue and placed your order of (your favorite variety of breakfast food) and Bucky's flapjacks and syrup. After a few minutes of waiting, your number was called and you picked up your food, gathering the handles of the large bag onto your wrist so it was easier to carry and made your way back outside. 

Soon, you were releasing a relieved sigh as you made it up the steps outside your complex. It was as you were pulling open the front entrance that you heard your name being called. You turned searching for the source and found Sam jogging toward you. 

“Wilson!” you called, over-dramatically, grinning at some strangers passing by, giving you an odd look. 

It had become a running joke between you and Sam since you had watched 'Castaway' with the guys a few days before. Everytime you saw him you would call out his last name in the same manner as Chuck Holland had in the movie. Sam thankfully took the teasing in stride, often calling you 'Doc' in return, this time was no different. 

“What's up, Doc?” he asked, smiling, holding the door open for you. 

“Not much, Bugs Bunny.” you laughed at the line. “Just got off of work.” 

“Long night?” he asked, as the two of you made your way up the internal staircase. 

“Do I really look that tired?” 

“Now I didn't say that.” 

“But you did imply it.” you joked. “Yeah, it was kinda hectic last night...which is always fun. You here to see Steve?” 

“Actually, Steve and I went out for a jog. We kinda got separated and I came back here to wait for him.” 

“How can you get separated from Steve? He's big and blonde, not that hard to miss.” 

Sam shook his head, shrugging, “The man can run miles in a matter minutes. I gave up trying to keep pace with him a long time ago.” 

You chuckled, “I guess that's a good reason. I'd probably end up in a wheezing heap on the curb if I tried it.” 

“What's with the food?” Sam asked, curiously. 

“It's for Bucky and I, actually. He called me last night in kind of a panic and we talked. I offered to grab breakfast on my way home.” you rambled in answer. 

“He called you?” Sam asked in a surprised tone. 

“Yeah. We talked for a while, while I was on break. I was kind of surprised myself.” 

“You know his therapist told him that he needs to try and take small steps and get back out into the world. Try and get comfortable around people again, but so far he refuses to. He barely leaves Steve's apartment, said that the last time he did he had a panic attack.” 

You nodded, already knowing about that particular attack,“I originally suggested that he come and walk me home from work, but he refused, so we settled for this.” you gestured to the bag, as you fished your apartment keys out of your purse. 

“Don't feel bad, he won't even go anywhere with Steve. Says that it's not a good idea for him to be in a crowd.” 

You nodded, then remembering your manners, “Hey, would you like to join us for breakfast? I'm sure I've got enough food here to feed a small army.” you offered. 

“Nah, I don't think Barnes would take kindly to my intrusion.” 

“You sure?” you asked. 

“Yeah, if you can get him to come out of the apartment and eat with you, it's best if I keep my distance.” 

“You two really don't get along, do you?” you smiled. 

“Nope. But we try to, or at least I do, for Steve's sake.” 

“Well, I wouldn't usually ask this of mortal enemies, but could you tell him I'm home and that the foods here?” you asked. 

“Sure thing. Enjoy breakfast!” 

“You really sure you don't want any?”

“I might swing by for leftovers in a bit.” 

“I'll be sure to save you some...and Steve too, if he ever gets back from his marathon run.” 

“Alright, I'll see you.” Sam said. 

“Bye!” you waved, as you stepped through your door. 

You headed to the kitchen and placed the bag of food down on the counter, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes. Your exhaustion was quickly creeping up on you, but you pushed it aside and gathered some plates and silverware. Then you turned to the living room. You didn't really have a kitchen table or a dining area, so you just always used your coffee table. You scrambled to clean off the mess of magazines and old newspapers you had left littering the surface, before you heard a quiet knock at your door. 

“Come on in, Bucky!” you called. 

A moment later and he was standing in the room, “Good morning!” you say. 

“Mornin'” he replies. 

“Food's in the kitchen. Help yourself.” you nod toward the archway. 

Bucky nodded and headed in that direction. 

“I got your pancakes, but I got a bit of everything else, so get whatever you want.” you called, as you finally cleared the table and followed him into the kitchen. You found him standing by the counter, staring listlessly at the food. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I just...” he trailed off. 

It was only then that you realized how exhausted he looked, “You didn't get anymore sleep after we talked, did you?” 

He shrugged,“I dozed for a while, but the nightmares eventually came back.” 

“Do you feel like you could eat? You're not obligated to, you know.” you gestured toward the food. 

Bucky nodded, “Yeah, I do feel kinda hungry.” 

“Okay, get whatever you want and we'll watch another movie or something, maybe I could find 'Captain Blood' on Netflix. How's that sound?” 

He nodded again and began piling his plate full of food. After he finished, you got your own plate full, and the two of you retired to your couch. As you grabbed your remote control, you noticed that Bucky was only pushing his food around his plate without really eating it. 

“Bucky?” you said, softly. “I know that you said that you didn't want to last night, but do you want to talk now?”

The only answer you received was silence. In fact, he was quiet for so long that you were afraid that you had overstepped your boundary, then, “I...I could hear it...in my ears.” he began, softly. “The electricity. My...screams. I felt like I was falling from the train again. And now, just like after every nightmare, every episode, I keep thinking about how fucking angry I am. HYDRA stole my life from me, years and years of senseless blood and death...years that I can never get back...and I know that I wouldn't have survived the fall if Zola hadn't done what he did to me...but in all honesty...the world probably would've been better off if I hadn't. And now that I have a chance of doing like you said and living my own life, I'm too haunted by what they made me do to do it. I'm just so frustrated with it all!” his voice rose in pitch as his clenched fists hit his knees hard enough to bruise any normal person. 

“I can't go outside without thinking, 'Is this the day I fall back into being the Winter Soldier and kill someone?' I'm terrified that that's going to happen, even with Steve. I was once ordered to kill him and I'm so fucking scared that, if something goes wrong and I fall back into the mindset of the Soldier, that that is what I'll do. My mind could snap and I could end up killing my best friend because those bastards ordered it. I just...” he cut himself off, shaking his head as his flesh hand rose to cover his eyes. 

It was the most you had ever heard him say at once and you didn't really know what to say in return. So, you simply laid a gentle hand on the metal fist resting on his knee and when he turned to fully look at you, his eyes glistening with frustrated tears, you reached for him and pulled him into your embrace. 

At first, Bucky stiffened like the last time you had hugged him, but after a moment he rested his head on your shoulder and buried his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. You slowly rubbed his back, ignoring the slight wetness you felt on your skin, as he wept silently. 

“It's okay.” you breathed, while trying to withhold your own tears for all that the man had suffered. You ended up failing and released a quiet sob as your heart ached for him. 

Minutes passed as you held on to each other and, in the warmth of his embrace, you found your eyes drifting shut, your exhaustion finally fully creeping up on you. Bucky must have realized this, for in the next instant the two of you were laying down, stretched out on the couch. 

Too addled by lack of sleep to protest, you snuggled deeper into his warmth. But before you fully gave into your fatigue, you felt Bucky's breathing slow and with a final glance upward, you realized that he was already soundly sleeping. 

So, your breakfast sat forgotten on the table, as the two of you fell asleep in the circle of each others arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait! RL has had me pretty busy lately, plus I've been a little under the weather, and I haven't really had a chance to write until now. I'm still not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but hopefully my dissatisfaction doesn't translate onto the page. In other words, I hope you all enjoyed it...especially that ending. Til next time, my dears!


	5. Waking Up

A sudden noise woke you and you glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing that you had been sleeping for several hours. There was an odd weight around your back and, as you slowly began to come to your senses, you realized two things: 1) you weren't in your bed and 2) your pillow was moving. 

'That's odd.' you thought. 

The noise sounded again and as you tried to sit up, you came to find that you were crammed between the back of the couch and a body, half laying on top of it. And it was a very toned body at that. Looking up, you saw Bucky sound asleep with his metal arm wrapped around your side and his legs tangled with yours. You blushed as you couldn't help but to begin thinking thoughts that weren't quite so pure. 

The noise came for the third time and you realized that it was someone knocking on your door. Turning your attention back to the situation at hand, you looked down to Bucky's arm and loosely wrapped your fingers around his wrist, trying to move the metal appendage without waking him, but his gentle grip was a little too firm. 

“Damn.” you mumbled quietly. 

You really didn't want to wake him up since he had been so exhausted, so you realized that you didn't have any choice but to try and roll out from under his arm, across his chest. You slowly, gently inched to the side, hoping that you didn't elbow him in the stomach as you went. You were about to successfully complete the maneuver, having managed to get yourself to Bucky's other side, and were about to stand up when he jerked awake. You ended up in a heap on the floor between the couch and coffee table. 

“Ow.” you grumbled, rubbing your now bruised backside. 

Bucky was looking around wildly, as if he had forgotten where he was. 

“Bucky?” you called, cautiously. 

He turned to stare at you, a startled look on his face, as if he hadn't registered the fact that you were there. He blinked owlishly for a moment, before his brow furrowed, “Did we fall asleep on the couch?” 

“Yup.” you replied, feeling yourself flush again. 

“Both of us?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Silence permeated the room for several long moments, “Well, this is...awkward.” you jokingly interrupted it. 

Bucky shook his head, running his human hand down his face, “I'm sorry, (Name.) I shouldn't have fallen asleep here. I'm sorry.” 

“Hey, it's no big deal, Bucky. You fell asleep, so what?” 

“'So what?'” he quoted. “(Name), if I'd had a nightmare, I could've seriously hurt you, or worse.” he said in an exasperated tone. 

“Yeah, but you didn't.” you said, shrugging. “And you actually got a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. That's a good thing in my book.” 

“It isn't in mine, not when I put you in danger.” 

“Ugh!” you groaned, needless to say you were not a morning person...or afternoon person, as the case may be. “Would you come off it already, Barnes? You slept, I slept, nothing bad happened, simple as that...unless you count the back pain I'm currently experiencing from sleeping on that lumpy couch.” you complained, moving from rubbing your behind to rubbing a sore spot on your lower back.

Bucky looked at you, his jaw hanging open in astonishment. “You're nuts!” he said, shaking his head. 

“You know, coming from a 99 year old amnesiac, some people might consider that insulting. Lucky for you, I take it as a compliment.” you grinned, then remembered what had awoken you. “Oh, crap! There was someone at the door.” you scrambled to your feet and headed for the front hall. 

“What?” Bucky asked you, confused. 

“The knocking. That's what woke me up!” you explained, as you opened the door, only to find that the person had already left. “Damn, missed them.” 

“I bet it was Steve.” Bucky said, right behind you, causing you to jump.

“Don't do that!” you said, holding a hand over your speeding heart. 

Bucky's lips twitched into a tiny half smile, “Sorry.” 

Shaking your head, while fighting back a smirk of amusement, you turned back to the door,“You know, it might've been Steve. Shall we go see?” you asked, grabbing your keys from the small table beside your doorway.

Before you could step out into the hall, Bucky reached around you and closed the door. You turned around while giving him a confused look.

“I just...I want to say...thank you.” he said, quietly. 

“For what?” you asked, just as softly.

“For listening.” he replied, shyly. 

A small smile graced your lips as you looked up at him, “Your welcome.” 

“I also want to apologize again for falling asleep on you...” 

You pointed a finger at him, “Now you listen here, Barnes, if you're going to go off on another tangent about how dangerous it was, I don't want to hear it.” 

“No, it's not that. I learned that lesson a minute ago. I just wanted to make sure that I didn't make you uncomfortable in any way.” he explained.

You paused for moment, considering. Should you have been uncomfortable? You quickly realized that, even if that's how you should have felt, that was far from your actual feelings about it. So, you settled on joking with him, instead of admitting to both yourself and him the true level of your comfort. 

“You actually make a nice pillow, Bucky.” you teased. 

“That's not exactly what I meant, doll.” he said, his cheeks slightly coloring. 

“I know. And you didn't.” you smiled softly and reached out to gently pat his left arm. Bucky gave a small smile at the gesture. 

“Now, we should probably go and see if that was Steve.” you said, walking out into the hall. 

Bucky simply nodded in agreement and followed you down to Steve's apartment. He took out his key and unlocked the door, allowing you to go in before him. Steve's rather frantic voice could be heard in the living room. 

“I don't know! I knocked on (Name)'s door and no one answered. I'm afraid something's wrong.” 

“Ahem!” you coughed, gaining his attention. 

“Oh, never mind, Sam. They're here now.” he said in relief, before hanging up with Wilson. “Where were the two of you? I knocked on your door, (Name), but you didn't answer.” 

“We...uh...were asleep.” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. 

Steve looked at the two of you, taking in your mussed hair and wrinkled clothing with a critical eye. “You were asleep?” he asked, skeptically, raising a brow. 

“Yeah.” you answered, innocently. 

He stared suspiciously for a few quiet moments, crossing his arms, “You didn't...” he trailed, questioningly, whilst you looked at him in confusion. 

Bucky snorted, “No, Steve, we didn't fondue.” 

Steve's cheeks became tinged with color, but he grinned at you and Bucky, “Sorry, I...Wait! You remember that, Buck?” 

Bucky looked surprised at himself as he replied, “Yeah, I guess I do.” 

You smiled, realizing now that your face might as well be permanently red from your constant blushing. You didn't know the reference, but now you did get the gist of what Steve had meant. You cut in, trying to explain yourself, “We really did just fall asleep on my couch, Steve. Bucky was sleepy and, after I worked the late shift last night, I was absolutely exhausted. We didn't even eat the breakfast I got for us.” you pouted, as your stomach grumbled.

“You mean there's actually leftovers like you promised Sam?” Steve asked, sounding hopeful. 

“Yeah,” you said, glad for the deviation away from 'fonduing.' “But given that it's after noon, no doubt they've already gone cold...if they haven't spoiled. Besides, I'm not sure breakfast food would be an appropriate meal at this time of day.” 

“We could just warm it up and call it a late brunch.” Steve said, shrugging. “That is, if you don't object to my joining you both?” 

“Of course not, Steve! But I think I'll just cut my loses with the breakfast and cook dinner. How's that sound?” 

“That sounds great, actually!” Steve said, excitedly, then reigning in his excitement he said, rather shyly, “If it isn't too much trouble for you?” 

“Nope. I don't have to work tonight either, so it would be nice to socialize with my neighbors. Just give me an hour or two to clean myself up a bit and go get some supplies.” You turned to leave but then you remembered what Sam had told you that morning about Bucky and his therapist. You turned back to Bucky, “Would you like to go shopping with me, Bucky? I think you would know more about what you and Steve like than I do.” 

He looked surprised by your request, “I...I don't know.” he replied, glancing down at his hands. 

“Please? There's usually not that many people at the grocery store at this time of day and I promise we can leave if you get uncomfortable.”

“You should go, Buck.” Steve interjected, nudging him on the shoulder. 

“No pressure though.” you quickly added. 

Bucky silently glanced between you and Steve for a moment, before he answered, “Okay.” 

“Great! Just give me about 15-20 minutes and I'll be ready.” you grinned, before scurrying out the door. 

When you were gone, Steve happily cuffed Bucky on the back, “I'm glad you decided to go with her, Bucky. You need to get out more.” 

“I know. I just...It's hard.” he explained. 

“I know it is. Adjusting to everything can be difficult, but (Name) seems like she wants to help.” 

Bucky breathed a sigh and sank down into a chair, putting his face in his hands, “I think I'm starting to like her as more than a friend, Steve.” he mumbled into his palms. 

Now it was Steve's turn to look surprised, “You mean you've got a crush? That's what they call it these days.” 

“Yeah, I guess I'm starting to carry a torch for her and that could be problematic.” 

“Why?” 

“'Why?' Because! Why would any fine dame like (Name) want someone as broken as I am?

Steve stayed quiet for a minute, digesting what his friend had revealed, “You know Bucky, it really isn't your decision whether she would want you or not. It's (Name)'s. If she were to decide that she likes you too, I don't imagine you could do very much to change that.” 

“It would be too dangerous for her if she and I were to pursue a relationship, Steve.” 

Steve sighed, “You can't keep closing yourself away from everything, Bucky. That's no way to live.” Bucky didn't reply, so Steve changed the subject, “You should grab a shower too if you're going out.”

“Is that your way of telling me I stink, Stevie?” Bucky smiled slightly, relieved to leave to topic of his messed up life behind for the moment. 

“Nah, you don't, Buck. But if you're going out in public you might want to look like you don't too.” Steve said, grinning. 

“Punk!” was Bucky's automatic response. 

“Jerk!” Steve happily laughed, he was beginning to see more and more of his old friend. “Now go shower, I don't want to wait longer than necessary for dinner...especially since you said (Name)'s cooking is the best you've had in a long time.” 

“It's better than takeout.” Bucky mumbled, as he rose from his seat, taking Steve's advice he went to bathe. 

“Hey! I heard that!” Steve said, still laughing. 

After Bucky was gone, Steve remained sitting on the couch and ruminated about what his friend had just told to him. Bucky was right, there was some risk for him being in a relationship. But Steve knew that he was right too. Bucky needed someone like you, someone compassionate and kind. Despite the posed risks, he knew that you would be good for each other, you both just needed to realize it. 

He quickly decided that he would play match maker if need be and he would recruit some others to help too. But first, they would have to meet you. 

 

You breathed a sigh as you stepped out of your bathroom, dressed and made up. You always felt better, more relaxed after a nice shower. As you gathered your wallet into your purse, your mind started to wander.

If you thought hard enough, you could still feel the weight of Bucky's arms wrapped around you. The hardness of his body against your own softness. Your mind went back to the thoughts you had had when you woke up and discovered him there with you. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to hold him in your own arms, to feel his heartbeat against your own as your bodies...

“Enough!” you scolded yourself, as you grabbed a snack for Bucky and yourself and headed out, shaking the random thoughts from your head. Yes, you were fast developing a crush on Bucky, who wouldn't after waking up practically laying on top of him, but he was your friend and that was that. There was no use in continuing that line of thought anyway, it would just cause you trouble. 

A minute later, you were knocking on Steve's door, “Come on in. Bucky went to shower, he'll be out momentarily.” Steve said, ushering you inside. 

“Thanks.” you said, stepping over to an armchair and sitting down to wait. 

“So, I was thinking, would it be okay if I invited a couple of other people to dinner?” 

“Are we talking other Avengers or...?” you asked, playfully suspicious. 

“Maybe one or two, aside from Sam and my date.” 

“You're bringing a date?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah,...Sharon. We've been dating for a few weeks.” 

“Aww! Aren't you adorable!” you teased, grinning. Now was your chance for a bit of revenge, you decided. It may have been petty but he had embarrassed you earlier, so now it was your turn. “Of course you can bring Sharon, Steve.” you began. 

Steve smiled, “Thanks, (Name).” 

“After all, you can't 'fondue' on an empty stomach.” You finished, looking at him as innocently as possible, biting your lip to withhold your laughter.

You heard a snort behind you as Steve's face and neck turned a bright crimson from a full blush. The snort was followed by deep laughter and you turned to glance at a freshly showered Bucky, dressed casually with his damp hair pulled back in a bun. 

His head was thrown back and his hand was on chest as he tried to control his chuckles, “I can't believe you just said that to him!” he breathed out. The sound of his laughter warmed your heart and you couldn't help but join in. You were happy that you had made him laugh in such an unrestrained manner. 

“Ah! Revenge is sweet!” you smiled and winked at Steve. “That was for embarrassing me with the whole 'fondue' thing earlier, by the way.” 

Steve reluctantly smiled at you, shaking his head, “You really are a knucklehead, you know?” 

“Not sure what that means exactly, but I'll take it!” you replied, standing from your seat and fully turning to Bucky. “You ready?” 

Bucky's apprehension suddenly reappeared on his face ten-fold, all but wiping away the laughter, but he nodded anyway. 

“Good! Let's head out before Steve thinks of a comeback.” you grabbed his hand. “Oh, here.” You pulled out the energy bar you had stashed in your pocket and handed it to Bucky, as you walked toward the door. 

“What's this?” he asked. 

“Food.” you replied. “It's never good to shop on an empty stomach. It's not much, but it's something to tide us over until dinner.” 

Bucky tore into his bar and basically inhaled it. 

“Or not.” you shrugged and called to Steve over your shoulder, “Be at my place in a couple of hours, Steve.” 

“I'll be there, (Name), but first I have to swing by the tower for a meeting. Call if you need me!” 

“Alright! We'll see you in a bit.” you said, as you headed out the door, nibbling on your snack. 

You led Bucky down to your rarely used (favorite automobile) and hopped in, you in the driver's seat and him in the passenger side. As you were clicking your seat belt into place, you flipped on the radio out of habit. Out of pure luck (favorite artist/band) was on and you began to nod your head to the beat of the song as you fired up the engine and pulled out onto the street. 

Glancing over at Bucky, you found him scowling at the radio in utter distaste. 

“What?” you asked, turning the volume of the music down. 

“That's what's considered music these days?” he frowned. 

“You don't like it?” you asked. 

“No offense, doll, but I think I'd rather have my eardrums punched out than to have to listen to that.” 

“Okay, Mr. Senior Citizen, you pick the station then.” you smirked, as you told him what knob to use to adjust the scanner. 

Bucky ended up settling on a channel playing old swing music. 

“Big band? Really?” you asked, playfully skeptical. “You're like a walking, talking cliché.” 

“What? No body listens to big band anymore?” 

“Hardly. Unless they're geriatric.” you joked, glad that his anxiety had seemed to have lessened somewhat.

“I used to dance to this stuff, you know.” he proclaimed. Sure his memories were still foggy but he had started to remember more and more. Dancing was always a favorite pasttime of his, especially when a pretty dame was involved. “Before the war, I would almost always take my dates dancing. Haven't you ever been?” 

“Dancing? Yes. But I've never danced to swing music before. I kinda always wanted to learn though.” you admitted, bashfully. 

“Really?” Bucky grinned. 

While he may have seemed okay on the outside, internally he was torn. He knew that what he had told Steve was right, if he were to pursue his growing attraction to you, it could be dangerous. But Steve's earlier words had struck a chord with him too, he couldn't keep closing himself away out of fear and guilt. HYDRA had taken so much away from him, perhaps it was time to start trying to get it all back. 

Maybe it was time to just be Bucky Barnes again. Not James Buchanan Barnes, war hero. Not the Winter Soldier, assassin. Just Bucky, the kid from Brooklyn. 

This revelation is what led to his next words, “Maybe I could teach you some time.” 

“Really? That would be so cool!” you exclaimed, then curiously asked, “You remember dancing?” 

“Yeah, I'm actually starting to remember more...I think. Besides, dancing is mostly muscle memory.” he explained. 

“Well, I'd love to learn.” you said, glancing over at him as you stopped at a stop sign. 

“Yeah?” he asked, shyly. 

“Definitely.” you replied. 

“It's a date, then.” he said, then looked horrified at himself. “I-I mean not a date-date but a teaching date, not that I wouldn't go on a date-date with you. I...” 

“Bucky, honey, you're rambling.” you said, biting your lip, trying to withhold a grin, after all you wouldn't mind if it was an actual 'date-date.' But you kept that thought to yourself.

“Sorry.” he said, looking down at his hands. 

“It's okay, I knew what you meant.” you said, taking a hand from the wheel and reaching over to give his left one a pat. 

He simply smiled his shy sort of smile and resigned himself to looking out the window at the passing streets. 

Traffic wasn't too bad at that time of day, so you were able to maneuver your vehicle with ease until you pulled up in front of your usual grocery store. Glancing over at Bucky you could see that the shyness had melted away to anxiety and he was looking apprehensively toward the front entrance. 

“You ready?” you asked. 

Bucky looked at you, biting his lip and nodded. “As I'll ever be.” he replied. 

“Remember, if you get uncomfortable, just let me know and we'll scram.” you reminded him, jokingly using some 1930's lingo you had picked up from old movies to try and lessen his unease. 

“'Scram?' And here I thought I was the old one.” he replied. 

“Well, I've got the moolah, pally. Whattya say we bust open this joint?” you mimicked the old film accent that many of the actresses had used.

“You know Steve and I never really talked like that, right?” 

“Oh, come on! You're ruining my moment.” you pouted. 

Bucky smiled, in spite of himself, “Whatever you say, dollface.” 

You chuckled at his response as you both headed inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So someone has a crush. Wink-wink. lol I hope you all liked this one. I've typed, edited, and re-typed and this is the end result, so hopefully it isn't too bad. Also I have plans for some dancing in a future chapter, so there's that. I've already started the next chapter, so I hopefully it won't be that long before I post it. But as always, leave kudos and comments at your leisure. Until next time, my dears. *bows*


	6. The Adventures of Modern Grocery Shopping

Bucky wasn't entirely certain as to how it had happened. How had he ended up agreeing to come shopping with you again? But regardless of the 'how', he found himself following you around the supermarket like a lost, apprehensive puppy. 

“Why don't you explore a little, Bucky? Maybe you'll find something you like.” you suggested, before turning back to what you were doing. He had been sticking to you like glue and it was a little unnerving, though you did understand why he was doing it. You had hoped that a simple outing like this would begin to ease some of his anxiety pertaining to the public, but you weren't so certain anymore. That is, until he followed your suggestion and stepped away from you. 

Bucky looked around him, mentally marking exits and what could be considered suspicious looking people, figuring out how best to take them out if need be. 'Stop!' he said, internally scolding himself. 'You don't have to do that anymore.' He shook the Soldier's thoughts from his head. 

He turned his attention back to his rather colorful surroundings. Grocery stores had drastically changed since the 40's. He certainly didn't remember them being this large. He was used to little family owned shops, drab and grey, with aisles filled with homemade products in varying sizes of glass jars or wrapped in brown paper. Everything these days was either boxed in cardboard or in what had to be some kind of toxic plastic, so it was a wonder to Bucky as to how humanity had survived this long. 

He reluctantly wandered around a bit, picking up random things and reading about the contents, shaking his head in both amusement and utter confusion. He did this for a little while until found himself in the fruit and vegetable section. As he stared at the variety of colorful fruit, he vaguely began to remember something... 

“Come on, James, at least try one.” a female voice said. 

“Nah uh.” his much younger self protested, shaking his head. 

“You'll never know if you like them if you don't try them. It's a rare treat to have fresh fruit, after all.” 

Little Bucky huffed, grabbing a piece of the plum and stuffing it in his mouth. 

“That's my brave boy!” the woman, his mother said. 

He could almost see her face, the familiar brown hair, the same blue eyes that he saw when looking in the mirror. The wrinkles from the years of hardship and worry during the depression. But even at their poorest, his Ma always had a twinkle in her eye. 

If he tried hard enough he could almost remember his Pa too, though he and Bucky had never been particularly close. Bucky had always been a 'Mama's boy', always sticking closer to her rather than his more strict father, but he had loved them both dearly. 

He snapped back into the present, blinking back abrupt tears that threatened to fall. One betrayed him and slid down his cheek, he swiped it away, looking confusedly at the traitorous drop on his finger. He then turned back to his present surroundings.

'Yes, I liked plums.' he remembered. So he grabbed one of the proffered plastic bags to gather some as he composed himself further. 

As he made his selection, he unthinkingly left his metal hand on display and it was only when he felt a soft tug on the hem of his jacket that he shoved it back into his pocket, holding his bag of fruit in his right hand. Turning around he looked for the source of the tug and found himself gazing down into a pair of curious eyes. 

“'Cuse me.” the little girl said, “But why is your hand silva? Is it a prohtetic wike mine.” She gestured to her left arm where from the elbow down she had a very rudimentary prosthesis...well rudimentary when compared to Bucky's. 

“Uh...” Bucky nervously glanced around, hoping you would intervene, but you were some distance away and distracted by your shopping. He cleared his throat before answering, “Yeah, it is.” 

The little girl's eyes got impossibly bigger and brighter, “Can I see?” she asked, excitedly. 

“Um...Sure.” Bucky replied, quietly, figuring the best way to get the girl to leave would be to allow her request. So he pulled his hand out of his pocket and showed it to her. 

She unexpectedly grabbed the appendage and turned it back and forth with her regular hand, running her index finger across his shiny, metal palm, “Wow! It's so much cooler den mine! I wike it!” 

“Thank you.” Bucky wasn't sure what else to say. 

“Did you lose your arm cause of cancer?” 

In spite of his mounting discomfort at the interaction, Bucky felt his heart ache for the girl. Such a tiny, little thing to have to know about the horrors of cancer. “No. I lost mine in battle, during a war.” he explained. 

“Oh! Dat must've been scary.” 

“It was.” he agreed. “Um...I don't think I caught your name, sweetheart?” 

“I'm Becca.” she said, proudly. “What's your name?” 

Bucky felt a sensation of familiarity in his mind. The name 'Becca' was familiar for some reason, he just didn't know why. “I'm...uh...I'm Bucky.” he replied, finally answering the little girl's inquiry. 

The girl grinned, her laugh dragging him out of his thoughts, “Dat's a funny name! I wike it!” she declared.

Her smile was contagious and Bucky couldn't help but to grin back at her, “Did you get separated from your parents?” he asked, unknowingly going into what could be called, 'big brother mode.' 

“Uh huh.” she nodded. 

“Well, let me get my friend and she can help us find them, okay?” he suggested, because he honestly didn't know what to do in that situation, but his reasoning told him that you might. 

“Okay.” 

Bucky turned around to find that you were now quite a way down the aisle from where he was, he motioned for Becca to follow him and made his way to you, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention. 

“(Name)? This little girl is lost.” he gestured toward Becca. 

“Oh?” You were taken by surprise for a moment, before you noticed the little girl at his side and knelt down to her level, “Well, hello, sweetie! My friend tells me that you're lost. Can you tell me your name?” you asked. 

“Becca. What's yours?” 

“What a pretty name! I'm (Name.)” you replied. “What do you say you come with me and we'll go up to the register and I'll have the cashier page your parents. I'm sure they're worried sick about you.” 

“Okay.” Becca said, taking your proffered hand. 

“Bucky, can you grab my cart?” you asked, leading the girl toward the front of the store. 

“Sure.” he replied, laying his bag of plums inside it and pushing it along behind you and Becca, listening as you both chattered animatedly to each other. 

You did as you said and the cashier paged Becca's parents over the intercom. A couple of minutes later a woman appeared, “Becca! Oh, thank goodness! I've been looking everywhere for you!” she said, scooping the little girl into her arms and hugging her. “What have I said about wandering away?” 

Becca grinned her toothy little grin, “Sorry, mama.” 

“Thank you!” the woman said, turning to you and Bucky, smiling. “Ever since she went into remission and got some of her strength back she wanders around everywhere.” 

“Oh, it was no problem!” you said. “I'm glad she's doing better, she's such a cutie.” 

Becca giggled as you gently tapped her on the nose. 

“Thank you! The two of you are my heroes today.” the woman said. “I'm Sarah, by the way.” 

“I'm (Name) and this is my friend Bucky.” you replied, shaking the woman's proffered hand. 

Sarah narrowed her eye in thought as she looked at Bucky, “You look rather familiar, Bucky. Have we met before?” she asked. 

Bucky began to internally panic. If the woman realized who he was, things could potentially go south very quickly. 

“Oh, he gets that a lot. I guess he just has one of those faces.” you supplied, able to sense Bucky's discomfort, rolling off of him in waves. 

“Mama, Bucky's got a prohtetic wike mine.” Becca said. 

Bucky mentally cursed, he had been hoping to avoid revealing his hand. 

“Really?” Sarah asked, noticing that his left hand shoved deep into his pocket. “I'm so sorry if she made you uncomfortable about it. I've really tried to teach her otherwise.” 

“Uh...no, it's fine.” Bucky choked out, finding his voice despite his paranoia. 

“Might I ask how you lost it?” Sarah asked, a look of sympathy on her face. 

“War.” was Bucky's quick answer, as he glanced nervously around, his chest beginning to heave in an almost painful way. 

“Oh, then thank you for your service!” Sarah said, suddenly eyeing him knowingly, but smiling. “My husband served in Iraq, so I know that the cost of war is always a terrible thing.” 

Bucky's nervousness lessened only slightly, at least she thought he was a veteran of Iraq. 

“Mama, put me down, please.” Becca suddenly demanded, as she stared at him. 

Sarah slowly placed her on the ground and Becca turned to Bucky. She walked up to him and reached her tiny arms, both flesh and prosthetic, up toward him, “Can I have a hug, Bucky?” she asked, innocently, after he hesitated. 

Bucky blinked in surprise, “Um...S-sure.” he knelt down, unsure of what else he should do, and Becca threw her arms around his neck. 

“Don't be scared, Bucky.” she whispered in his ear. “Mama says we shouldn't be scared.” 

Bucky smiled, as Becca pulled back grinning and walked back to her mother. 

“I hope that didn't make you uncomfortable, Bucky?” Sarah asked, as she scooped Becca back up into her arms. 

“No. No, she didn't.” Bucky replied. 

Sarah smiled, “Well, I suppose we had best be going, it's getting time for your nap, young lady.” 

Becca began to tiredly rub her eyes, “Okay, mama.” 

“Thank you both again, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Sarah said, the knowing gleam never leaving her eyes as she glanced at Bucky one final time. 

“Your welcome again, and likewise.” you smiled, as the woman and her daughter turned away. 

After they were out of sight, you turned to Bucky, “Are you okay?” 

Bucky felt some of the tension he had been feeling easing, so he nodded as Becca's word rang in his mind. “From out of the mouth of babes.” he muttered. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Just something Becca said to me.” 

“What was it?” you asked, curiously.

He smiled, “She told me not to be scared.” 

“Well, she did seem like a wise little one.” you smiled.

Bucky's smile faded as confusion took over. He was actually surprised that Sarah hadn't recognized him and had actually allowed her daughter anywhere near him. His face had been splattered all over newspapers and from what he had seen of the internet for weeks. How was it possible that she hadn't known who he was? 

“What's wrong?” you asked. 

“She didn't recognize me.” he said, then clarified himself, as you furrowed your brow. “Becca's mom, Sarah, she didn't recognize me.” 

“Actually, I think she might have.” you said. You had noticed Sarah's very direct stare and had seen the moment of realization in her eyes that Bucky, in his anxiousness, had missed. 

“Really?” he asked, doubtfully. 

“Yeah.”

He looked at you, raising a brow.

“Oh, don't look so skeptical, Bucky. Sure, there's a lot of assholes in the world, but for every asshole there's even more good people out there, willing to forgive, like little Becca. And maybe Sarah recognized you and maybe she didn't. Who knows?” you shrugged. “But regardless, you should realize that people these days tend to have the attention span of goldfish. If something doesn't directly affect them, then they forget about it within days. It's the way of the world and it's a sad thing in a lot of aspects.” 

“It's sad that she didn't know me?” 

“No, I'm not saying that.” you gave him a soft, half smile as the both of you walked into another aisle. “I'm saying that issues that do affect people, they have a bad tendency to forget about them or ignore them until it's too late. Like that whole thing with SHIELD and HYDRA. How do you think HYDRA managed to infiltrate and linger in SHIELD for so long?” 

Bucky shook his head. In spite of playing a pivotal role in the ending of it all, most of the years HYDRA had spent infiltrating and destabilizing he had been in cryo-sleep, so he was intrigued by what your theory would be.

“They were able to do it because no one was paying attention. And that is always a dangerous thing.” you explained, then paused for a moment to place something else in your cart. “But I suppose that is a conversation best left for another time.” you said, moving down another aisle toward the store's bakery.

Bucky remained silent, still digesting your words as he followed behind you. He wasn't about to wander away again. Though things had gone well with little Becca and Sarah, the next time he might not be so lucky, or so he thought. So he followed you into the delicious smelling bakery. As he was walking past a table there, something caught his eye and he stopped to take a closer look...

“Bucky!” he heard another voice say in his head. “Can we get a treat? Please!” 

“I'm sorry, Sis. I'm afraid we don't have the cash.” 

The little girl pouted as she and a slightly younger Bucky walked past the little bakery shop. 

“Oh, don't be sad, Becky.” Steve, not Captain America Steve, but the sickly, thin Steve that he always knew, said. 

“Yeah, come on, how 'bout a piggy back ride?” Bucky asked. 

That suggestion put a smile on her face and she quickly nodded, “Okay!” 

She happily grinned as Bucky bent down to pick her up. 

The scene changed. The girl was older now, an adolescent, “Come on, Becky. Since I'm shipping out to Europe tomorrow, I've got a hankering for something sweet from Smith's bakery and I want to buy my little sister something too. Maybe it'll wipe that frown off of your face.” 

“I'm only frowning cause you're shipping off to war, you fat head!” she said sitting down on the porch steps with a huff, crossing her arms. A gesture which only earned her a smirk from Bucky. She finally sighed, “Aren't you the least bit scared, Buck?” 

Bucky sobered a bit, breathing a sigh of his own, as he sat down beside her, “I'm terrified, Sis.” 

“Then why do you have to go?” she demanded.

“Because it's my duty. Just like it's your duty to stay here and take care of Ma and Pa and our knot headed siblings. I won't be able to concentrate on anything over there if I'm worrying about you guys. I've already got enough worries when it comes to Steve to last me the entire war.” 

“I just wish that you didn't have to go, Buck.” she said, in a small voice. 

“I know. So do I.” he said, as he threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side for a comforting hug. 

“What if you don't come back?” Rebecca whispered. 

“I'll come back, Beck.” Bucky said. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” he replied, a few minutes past in silence, then, “Now, what do you say about that bakery offer?” 

Rebecca grinned, “Can we get some doughnuts?” 

“Of course, doughnuts are a given!” Bucky laughed, as the two of them stood and made their way out onto the sidewalk. 

Bucky shut his eyes, once again trying to compose himself in the middle of the supermarket. He had made a promise to his sister. He had told her that he would come back. He was just saddened to realize that he was 71 years too late.

Oblivious to Bucky's plight, you picked up a loaf of freshly baked bread you placed it into your cart. It was as you were turning to leave the area, that you saw Bucky standing in front of one of the displays. He was staring down a box on the table, seemingly lost in thought. 

“Have you found something, Bucky?” you asked, walking over to his side. 

“Are those doughnuts?” he asked. 

“Yeah.” you confirmed. 

He glanced at you, opening his mouth to say something, but nothing came forth. 

“What is it?” you asked, noticing the tears glistening in his eyes. 

“I remember. My sister. She and I bought some doughnuts the day before I shipped out.” 

“You had a sister?” 

“Yeah. Rebecca. That was her name.” 

“I guess meeting little Becca earlier helped jog your memory.” you said, gently. 

“Yeah, that and the smell of the bakery here...and the doughnuts.” he smiled, softly. “Becky always had a sweet tooth.” 

“Would you like to purchase them? The doughnuts, I mean.” you asked quietly, not wanting to break the moment. 

“No. It's okay. I don't want to spend your money.” he said, turning to walk away to try and compose himself more, not wanting you to see him in such a condition. 

“Bucky? Wait.” you said, softly grabbing his right arm to keep him next to you. “How long has it been since you've had a doughnut?” 

“Um...about 74 years, I think.” he replied. “The last one I had was the day I remembered going to get some with Rebecca.” 

Your jaw fell open, “So you haven't eaten a doughnut in almost three quarters of a century?” you whispered, horrified. 

He shook his head. Pastries wasn't something that was readily available on the front lines of the war and during his time with HYDRA...well they didn't really let him do anything aside from their malicious bidding. So it was true, it had been a very long time since he had eaten anything sweet and savory. 

“Those HYDRA bastards! That's a new, evil low even for them.” you muttered, almost as if you had read his mind, causing Bucky to give you a small smile. “Okay. Two words, Bucky. Krispy Krème." you said, pointing at the box, and navigating the subject away from his sister for the moment, since it seemed to be upsetting him. "I am so buying you a dozen of these delicious masterpieces.” 

“You really don't have to.” Bucky began to protest. 

“Bucky, honey, it is my civic, no, my American duty to see to it that you've had a chance to try these.” you answered, shutting down his protestations, as you placed the box of goodies in your cart. “Alright, I think I've got everything I'll need, are you ready or do you want to look around some more?” 

“Yeah, I'm ready to go.” Bucky said, after everything that had happened, he was anxious to get out of the store, despite the fact that, in a way, he would have loved to have looked around little bit more. 'Next time.' he thought bravely, silently promising himself that there would indeed be a next time. 

'That's my brave boy!' his Ma's voice echoed in his head again. 

“Let's go check out then.” you said, drawing his attention back to you, as you walked toward the front of the store. 

As you were putting your groceries up on the checkout, you noticed Bucky's bag of plums, “You like plums?” 

“Yeah. I remembered eating them once and liking them.” 

“Hmm.” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“What?” Bucky asked, curious. 

“Oh, nothing. I'm just wondering what kind of desserts you like. I mean obviously you like doughnuts.” 

“I haven't even tried them yet.” he said, with a short laugh. 

“Oh, but you will and you will love them, trust me.” you replied. 

“What other desserts are there?” he asked. 

“Oh, Bucky, that's like asking how many stars are in the night sky.” you said. 

“Well, what kind of dessert would you suggest I try? Aside from Krispy Krème's.” he asked, placing the box of said doughnuts on the checkout counter. 

“Well, since it looks like you've got enough plums here to feed an army, how about I make you a plum cobbler to go with dinner and you can start your dessert trials with that?” 

“I think I've had cobbler before, but not made out of plums.” he replied. 

“Then cobbler it is.” you grinned, as you paid for your purchases.

"You tryin' to fatten me up, doll?" he asked, his old Brooklyn accent surfacing.

"Of course! Can't have you looking all handsome with all these ladies around. One of them might pounce on you and then where would you be?" you joked, motioning toward the various 'soccer mom's' and 'cougars' around the store.

"You...think I'm handsome?" Bucky asked, quietly, surprised by your abrupt admission. 

You blushed. You really hadn't meant to admit that to him, you had just blurted the rogue thought it out in answer to his playful banter, without thinking about it. So now, you decided to play it cool, "Well, duh! Any woman with a pair eyes can see the appeal you have, Bucky." you replied, looking anywhere but at him, as you walked out of the store. 

Bucky bashfully ducked his head, “Thanks.” he mumbled. 

“Don't mention it.” you replied, just as bashful.

After that exchange, Bucky silently helped you load the groceries into your vehicle and then settled himself down into the passenger seat. You started the engine and the two of you slowly drove through the evening traffic back to your apartment complex, all the while you were plotting just what you were going to cook. 

It was going to have to be quite a meal, you decided, since you were hosting not only Bucky and Steve but Sam, Sharon, and some of the Avengers too. You ended up settling on baked chicken and a variety of vegetables. You hoped everyone would like it, you asked Bucky if he would. 

“That sounds delicious, actually.” he replied. 

“Awesome! Now I just have to worry about cooking it.” 

Bucky shyly glanced at you, your earlier confession of finding him handsome had somewhat rattled him. He wasn't used to compliments, especially when they came from pretty dames such as you. But somewhere deep down within himself, he felt something awaken. A part of himself that he had thought had died during the war. The old Bucky Barnes, dreamboat extraordinaire, at least according to some of the dames he had known back in the day. But he wasn't yet to the point where he felt comfortable unleashing that version of himself, so instead, “I could help. If you need me to?” he quietly offered.

“Bucky, that would be wonderful, thank you!” you smiled, as you pulled up into your usual parking space in front of your building, your excitement for the dinner palpable. “But first, you have to help me lug all of those bags upstairs.” you said, jerking your thumb back in the direction of where they were stored. 

“Anything for you, doll.” he smiled, your enthusiasm giving him some confidence. 

“There you go, trying to charm me again.” you playfully shook your head, as the two of you exited your vehicle. 

“Well, you did call me 'handsome.'” he replied. 

You bit your lip and tried to hold back a grin, as you blushed at the reminder, “You seem to be in a better mood. Less anxious, I mean.” 

“Yeah, well, I was absolutely petrified when we walked into that store." he reluctantly admitted. "But now that it's over, I realize how silly it was of me.” 

You frowned, “You shouldn't think of your fears as being silly, Bucky. You have legitimate reasons for them. Don't downplay them.” 

“I'm not. I'm just happy that I was able to go into public and actually interact with people without having a full blown panic attack...like the last time.” he explained, plus little Becca's words were still sticking with him. 

“Then I'm happy for you too! Small victories, Bucky, that's what matters!” you grinned, pulling him into a quick hug and then you turned back to the task at hand. “And now for the test of a lifetime, Mr. Barnes.” you announced, playfully. “Just how much can that arm of yours carry?”

With a small quirk of his lips he reached over, grabbing all of the bags, both heavy and light, and lifted them with little effort, all with his left arm. 

“Show off.” you joked, closing up and locking your vehicle.

“I try my best, doll.” he replied with a grin, as you opened the front doorway to the building for him and led him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not entirely satisfied with this, but it is what it is, I suppose. *shrugs* I hope you all understood some of the references, I.E. "I wike it!" and the name "Sarah." I just randomly decided to add them in as I was writing. Also, Bucky got his plums! Yay! lol 
> 
> Anyway, I hope this was an okay chapter, I hope it didn't feel rushed or anything...if so I apologize. But as always, my dears, leave kudos and comments if you wish.


	7. Out of the Frying Pan...

You honestly hadn't realized exactly how small your kitchen was until you and Bucky stood inside it. He was preparing the chicken via your instruction and you were standing by the counter, pealing potatoes to mash. Try as you might to concentrate on the task, your mind began to wander. 

In such a small space, Bucky took up a lot of room, his massive frame making it difficult for him to move from point A to point B without crowding around you. With every accidental brush of your bodies, your traitorous mind would concoct new fantasies. Most of which were not exactly on the 'friendly' side of the spectrum and more on the side of 'Hot damn! What I wouldn't give to get you naked and have you take me on the kitchen counter.' 

Not for the first time, you found yourself fighting a blush at the impropriety of your thoughts. Seeing him interact with a child at the supermarket hadn't exactly helped your dilemma either. In fact, it had sent your hormones into overdrive and more than doubled your crush on him, hence the overly dirty scenarios now running through your mind. 

“You alright?” the source of your current frustration asked. 

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Just the heat.” you replied, fanning yourself and blaming your reddened face on the preheating oven. 'Damn it!' you internally scolded yourself. 'He's your friend! He's your friend! That's all! Don't screw that up with your improper daydreams...then again he could certainly screw me...Damn it! Shut up!' 

“You sure? You look really flushed.” he asked, concerned. 

“Oh, yeah, I'm fine.” 

Bucky looked at you for a moment longer, then nodded, “I think the chicken's ready to bake.” he said. 

“Okay, the oven should be at the correct temperature now. You can go ahead and put it in.” you said. 'You can put it in, anytime.' your thoughts betrayed you again, as he brushed past you to do as you asked. 

Shaking your head, you turned toward him, “I think I can get the rest done myself, Bucky. Thanks for helping. You can watch some tv or something, if you like.” you suggested, because, damn it, if you didn't get him out of that kitchen now...well...

“You sure you don't need anymore help? You still look a little heated.” he asked. 

“Yeah, I can do it. I'm okay. And that's me speaking as a soon-to-be doctor. You go ahead, make yourself at home.” you rambled. 

He nodded again and walked into the living room. You held your breath until you heard the television click on. “Thank goodness.” you breathed quietly. 

Your production time seemed to double now that your mind didn't have a 'handsome' distraction nearby. You finished with the potatoes, placing them on the burner to cook, checked the baking chicken, opened some green beans and peas to heat up, and then you turned your attention to Bucky's plum cobbler. 

You sliced the plums, gathered the sugar, but halted at the flour, cursing yourself as you remembered where you always kept it. Since you hardly ever had the time to bake anything, you kept your flour on a high shelf above the counter and, during the rare occasions that you did need it, you always had to climb for it. 

'I really need to invest in a foot stool.' you thought to yourself, as you cleared a space on the counter to stand on. 'I could always call Bucky to help.' you thought, but quickly shook that idea away. 'Nope. I can do this. I don't need to get all hot and bothered again.' You hauled yourself up, placing a foot on the surface and lifting your other knee beneath you, until you were in a kneeling position. 

Getting both of your feet under you, you finally managed to stand up. You just were reaching for the flour, lacking about an inch or two when, “(Name?) I...” Bucky said from the doorway, but he didn't finish. 

His sudden appearance startled you so much that you lost your balance. You screamed and in the next instant you had toppled over and was falling toward the floor. Closing your eyes, you braced for a hard impact, but it never came. 

Instead, you slowly opened one eye and then the other, glancing around until your realized you were now suspended in the air. Bucky had caught you mid-fall and was now holding you bridal style in his arms. As you turned your head to look up at him, you realized exactly how close your faces were, just a centimeter or two and your lips would be brushing. 

“Holy mackerel, sweetheart, are you okay?!” Bucky asked, pulling a little further back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you. 

You nodded, having not yet found your voice, whether it was from the scare the fall had given you or from his close proximity or both you couldn't be sure. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on your chest and tried to steady the staccato rhythm of your heart, “Goodness, Bucky, you really need to make more noise when you walk.” you finally said, gently admonishing him for startling you. 

He gave you a small grin, “I'll certainly try my best, doll.” he said, as he placed you on your feet, almost seeming reluctant to let you go, but you chocked that up to your overactive imagination. “What were you doing anyway?” he asked, curiously, as he held your shoulders. 

“I was trying to reach the flour up there on the top shelf.” you explained, breathlessly. 

“You shoulda just asked me, I would've gotten it for you.” 

“I didn't want to bother you.” you replied. 

“It wouldn't have been a bother. After all, you're cooking dinner for me, it would've been the least I could do.” 

You gave him a bashful half smile, “Well, since you're here now...could you hand it to me?” 

“Sure.” he grinned again, reaching up and grabbing the bag of flour for you. 

“Thanks.” you smiled. 

“No problem.” he smiled back.

You were both quiet for a moment, “Oh, you were saying something before I fell? What was it?” 

“I...um...I couldn't really find anything interesting to watch, so I was wondering if I could sit in here and talk to you as you cook? I'll try to stay out of the way.” 

You contemplated for a second, you had sent him to the living room to get rid of the distraction he presented, but you couldn't simply ignore his plea. You motioned to a clear spot on the end of the counter, “Okay. You can sit there and talk, if you like...and you weren't in the way the first time.”

Bucky smiled a relieved sort of smile and sat up onto the space. He silently watched as you shuffled about for a few minutes before, “(Name), why don't you have a fella?” 

This caused you to pause in your cobbler preparation, as surprise overtook you, “What?” you asked, not entirely certain that you had heard him correctly. 

“Well, I...” he shifted, nervously. “I was just wondering why a nice dame like you would be single?” Bucky clarified. He wasn't sure as to why he had asked in the first place, it certainly wasn't any of his business since he didn't think that he would ever be in the running to win your affection, but he did want you to be happy. Even if that meant seeing you with some other guy while he tried to stifle his own ever growing crush on you. 

“I...well, I don't know.” you shrugged. “I guess with everything that's going on in my life, med school, working at the hospital, I just never have the time to go on dates. I mean, I've gotten offers and I've had boyfriends in the past, but they always got tired of waiting around for me to not be busy. So I...” you paused trying to think of the best way to word your excuse. “I guess I eventually just got tired of trying to make it work with someone who would only end up breaking my heart.” 

Bucky nodded at you, then stared down at his feet contemplatively. 

“Why do you ask?” you asked, curious as to why he had broached the subject. 

Bucky shrugged, not meeting your gaze, “It's just...you're kind, compassionate, an amazing cook, a great friend. Hell, you've put up with enough of my bullshit to drive anyone else away, yet you're still here...What I'm trying to say is, you're a catch, doll. Any guy would be lucky to have a gal like you.” 

You blushed and smiled at him, “Thank you, Bucky. That's all very kind of you to say.” 

He glanced up at you through his lashes, “It's the truth, doll.” 

“Oh, I don't know about all that.” you said, humbly. “What about you? Did you have a girlfriend before...everything?” 

“Never anything serious. Just dates here and there, from what I remember.” he explained. 

“Ah, a serial dater, huh?” 

“I suppose.” he smiled. 

You smiled back at him as you pulled the baked chicken from the oven, reset the temperature, and placed the plum cobbler inside. “So, did you have a type?” you wondered.

Bucky adorably tilted his head, staring at you, “Type of what?” he asked, confused. 

“Type of girl you liked.” 

“I don't really remember that much.” he replied, looking thoughtful. “There was one girl. Connie, I think was her name. I remember her, her best friend, Steve, and I went on a double date the night before I shipped out. Course Steve ditched us to go and try to enlist for the second time that day.” 

You grinned fondly at that, “What was she like? Connie?” 

“She was nice, kind. She loved to go dancing, it's what we did after Steve left us. She was always trying to help me set him up with her friends, but it never worked out. After I shipped out, she joined the army as a nurse. The last time I saw her, she had just gotten engaged to a Lieutenant.” 

“So it wasn't serious then?” 

Bucky shook his head, “No...least I don't think so.” 

You nodded, pausing as you stirred some of the cooking vegetables on the stove top,“I'm glad you seem to be remembering more and more of your old life, Bucky. You've remembered your sister, your family, and now Connie. You're doing great!” you encouraged. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm, but it soon faded into a furrowed brow and a troubled look in his eyes, “Yeah, I guess.” 

“What's wrong?” you asked, your own smile falling from your lips.

“I just...I wonder whatever happened to my family. They probably would've disowned me if they had seen what I become.”

“What you were forced to become.” you clarified, then looked thoughtful. “Couldn't Steve tell you anything?” 

“No, he said that he never had a chance to check into it after he came out of the ice, what with the whole alien attack, HYDRA, and then that Ultron thing.”

“I see.” you said. “I wonder if...Do you think any of your siblings could still be alive?” 

He shrugged,“I don't know.”

You knew the odds weren't exactly in his favor, after all he had been in the public eye for a while now, surely if any of his family were still living they would've contacted him and come forward. Unless he was right and they were too ashamed of him to do so. If that were the case, you believed him to be better off without them. 

“I can help you look into some of the city records online, see what we can find out, if you like?” you offered. 

“I would appreciate that very much, doll. I would do it myself but...well...” 

“Still not caught up on modern tech, huh?” 

“That...and I just don't know what I'll find out. What if they had terrible lives after I disappeared? What if my parents died poor because I wasn't around to help support the family? What if...” 

“You can't keep asking yourself 'what if', Bucky.” you interrupted. “The past can't be changed despite how much you deserve to have it changed. You must accept it and stop blaming yourself for things that were far beyond your control. And I know I've given you speech after speech on the subject, but I'll keep doing it until it sinks into that stubborn head of yours.” You pointed your spoon at him. 

“I know.” he said, with a slight smile. “And I'm glad you keep reminding me, I wouldn't have you any other way, doll.” 

'Oh, you can have me any way you like.' you thought. 'Damn it! Don't start that again!' 

“Don't start what again?” Bucky asked. 

Your eyes widened in horror, “I said that out loud?”

“Yeah. What is it?” 

You shook your head, beyond embarrassed, “Oh, nothing.” 

“It's clearly something, doll. The question is, what?” a faint smirk could be seen at the corner of his lips. 

“I...Well, I was...just thinking that you were trying to charm me again.” you fibbed, as you began spooning the freshly cooked vegetables into a bowl. 

Bucky stared at you with narrowed eyes, he could tell that you were lying. He opened his mouth, preparing to call you out on it, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“That's probably Steve and his guests.” you said a little too quickly, glad for the distraction as you moved to go and answer. 

“Steve invited more people?” Bucky asked, as you passed by him. 

“Yeah. I thought you knew.” you said, pausing in front of him. “Didn't he tell you?” 

Bucky now looked rather troubled. The easy atmosphere that you both had been enjoying had suddenly given way to a deep tension that rolled off of him in waves, “No.” he shook his head. 

You laid a hand on his arm, “It's just Sam, Sharon, and a couple of his Avenger friends. I don't know who, exactly.” you explained, as another knock sounded on the door. “Just a minute!” you called, turning your attention back to Bucky. 

His brow was still furrowed and an anxious look had settled onto his face, all of the tranquility of your earlier conversation was gone. 

“Hey, are you okay with all of this? I can talk to Steve if you want...” you trailed. 

“No! No, it's fine. Just nerves, I suppose.” he replied, ducking his head down, avoiding your gaze. 

“You sure?” you asked. 

“Yeah.” he nodded, glancing back up at you, taking a deep breath as he put on a brave face. 

You hesitated for a moment longer, “Okay.” you breathed, as you turned and walked into the foyer and opened the door. Steve stood on the other side with a pretty, blond woman that you guessed to be Sharon. Sam was behind them with two other people that you quickly recognized as the famous Black Widow and Hawkeye. 

“Hey, (Name). We aren't late are we?” Steve asked, with a worried look. 

“No, Steve, you're just in time. Come on in everyone.” you motioned for them to come in as you opened the door wider. “Hey, Sam!” you said, as he filed past you in the line. 

“Hey, Doc!” he replied, as he pulled you into a one armed hug as you moved to shut the door. 

Steve led the group into your living room, where Bucky now sat looking rather uncomfortable.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve greeted his friend with a pat on the shoulder, then turned to you, “(Name), allow me to introduce everyone. This is Sharon Carter.” 

“Hi!” the blond woman said, reaching out to shake your hand. 

“Hello, it's nice to meet you, Sharon.” 

“You too! I felt it would be inappropriate to come to dinner without a gift, so here...” she handed you a bottle of wine. 

“Oh, thank you! This will go great with everything.” you smiled. 

Steve gave the two of you a fond grin and continued his introductions, “Well, you already know Sam, so let me introduce you to Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton.” 

At the sound of his name, Clint automatically surged forward to excitedly shake your hand, while Natasha hung back, eyeing you critically. 

“Hey,” he said. “It's nice to meet you, Miss (Last Name).” 

“It's nice to meet you too, Clint, and call me (Name), please.” you smiled at him as he stepped back. “Miss Romanoff?” you held your hand out toward her, to which she simply stared. 

“Be nice, Tasha.” Clint chastised.

“Miss (Last Name).” Natasha acknowledged, as she nodded to you. “You're different than what I expected.” 

“Oh? Different, how?” you asked, curiously, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, this was the infamous 'Black Widow' after all. 

“Just different.” Natasha replied, finally smiling a small smile at you and reaching out to shake your hand. 

“So, I take it I passed the test?” you joked. 

“For now.” Natasha replied, vaguely. 

You smiled, “Well, please, make yourselves at home.” 

As Steve and his invited guests settled themselves into your apartment, you went to open Sharon's bottle of wine in the kitchen. Just as you popped the cork, you heard another knock at the door. “Hey Steve, did you invite anyone else?” you asked, as you sat the bottle on the counter and headed to answer. 

“No. Everyone I invited is here.” he answered, looking toward foyer with a confused look. 

“Hmm.” you mumbled, as you shrugged to yourself and swung open the door, only to have your jaw drop in utter surprise as you stood staring at the newcomer. 

“Hi! Tony Stark.” he said, sliding his sunglasses down his nose and reaching out to shake your hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, let me say sorry for not updating in so long! I honestly didn't mean for it to go this long between updates. Secondly, I know this chapter isn't as long as usual, but I wanted to get it out there since it HAS been so long. I'm sorry if it's not up to par, I've edited and re-written it for a while now, so if it sucks I apologize. I'm also sorry for the cliffhanger at the end...Let's just say that I'm sorry for a lot of things. lol I hope you all enjoyed it, at least and hopefully it won't be so long before I update again. As always, leave Kudos and comments at you leisure...


	8. ...And Into The Fire

“Cap mentioned that there would be food, so I invited myself. I hope you don't mind? Might I come in?” Tony asked, pointing inside your apartment. 

“Uh.” was all you could manage for a moment in your star struck wonder. 

Sure you personally knew Captain America, the Falcon, and the Winter Soldier, had now met a couple of other Avengers, and one bad ass former SHIELD agent, but they all seemed very nice and down to earth. 

This! This was genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist Tony Stark. He was someone you had grown up seeing on television, whose genius you had always admired. “I-I mean of course you can come in, Mr. Stark.” you finally said, stepping aside for him. 

“Thank you.” he gave you his trademark smirk, as he moved past you. 

You picked your jaw up off of the floor and shut the door behind him, following him into the living room where everyone stilled at his entrance. 

“Tony? What are you doing here?” Steve asked, surprised. 

“Well, you mentioned at the meeting that there would be food and I've never been one to turn down a good meal. Even if it is in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn. Geez, how do you live here? It's so...small.” 

“Hey,” you laughed, snapping out of your star struck haze. “My apartment isn't that tiny, Mr. Stark.” 

“Tony, please.” he said. 

“Well, Tony, it's cozy and...it's also all I can afford at the moment, what with med school and all.” you replied, bashfully. “I mean not everyone's a billionaire, you know?” 

Tony narrowed his eyes at you, then, “I like you! I like her, Cap!” he said, turning toward Steve as he pointed at you. 

“Um...Thank you?” you replied, confused as to whether him liking you was a good or bad thing. 

“Tony, seriously, what are you doing here?” Steve cut in, a grim expression on his face.

Tony sighed, “Look, this is me being the bigger man and offering an olive branch, okay?” 

It was then that you realized a couple of things. The first of which was the obvious friction in the room, especially between Steve and Tony. It was then that you remembered one of the truths that had been made public during Bucky's trial. 

Bucky, while under the control of HYDRA, had been commanded to kill Tony's parents, Howard and Maria Stark. Because of this, Tony hadn't exactly been friendly to Bucky's plight. Especially after the security footage of the murders had been played in the court room, or so the rumors had said. The whole situation had caused a rift between Steve and Tony, which you suspected was part of the reason Steve lived down the hall from you rather than at Avengers Tower. 

The second thing that you became aware of was the absence of Bucky in the room and that was something that worried you. 

“Hey, Steve, where did Bucky go?” you asked. 

“He excused himself a second ago to go to the bathroom.” Steve explained, still staring at Tony. 

“Okay.” you replied. “Well, the food's done. All of you can help yourselves, plates and silverware are by the sink. Go on and dig in.” 

As they all headed for the kitchen, you moved down the hall to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Bucky? Is everything okay?” 

No answer. 

“Bucky? Can I come in?” you asked. 

“Yeah.” came the quiet reply. 

You opened the door a crack and stepped through, shutting it behind you. When you turned around, you found Bucky sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. His hands were threaded through his hair and seemed to be tugging it in a painful looking way. His breathing was erratic, his chest heaving, as his head hung low obscuring his face from you. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, quietly. 

Once again, he didn't answer. 

“Hey.” you said, sinking down in front of him and gently placing your hand on his knee. “Talk to me, Bucky. Tell me what's wrong?” 

You saw him swallow before, “I...I can't go out there.” he finally choked out, shaking his head. 

“Are there too many people or...?” you asked, despite feeling like you already knew the answer. 

“It's Stark. I can't...I can't go out there and face him after what I did to Howard. How can I?” he glanced up at you and you saw the tears glistening in his eyes. “Every time I look at him, I can see that night in my head. I can see myself killing Howard and his wife. How could I do that? I knew Howard during the war, how...?” he cut himself off as he started to truly hyperventilate. 

“Hey, hey, it's okay...” you began, rubbing his knee. 

“No! It isn't!” he suddenly snapped at you, a wild look in his blue eyes. “You've been so kind to me, (Name). But I don't deserve it! You don't know who I really am! You don't know what I'm capable of! You should stay very far away from me!” He suddenly gave you a push, sending you falling backward until your shoulders and head hit the wall with a loud thud. Realizing what he had just done, he looked at you in apology. “You see? I'm not safe to be around!” he said softening his voice, “Did I hurt you?” 

You ignored his question as you rubbed the knot now growing on the back of your head. You narrowed your eyes at him, a look of resolved steel shown in their depths, “Bucky Barnes, you listen to me and you listen closely,” you began in a harsh whisper, moving forward and grabbing his wrists. You pulled his hands from his hair, grasped them in your own and squeezed. “I may not know everything about you, about your past, but I do know who you are now! I know that you deserve every kindness that comes your way! And anyone who says otherwise will have to deal with me! I don't give a damn if it's Stark or whoever!” you said, passionately. 

“You don't understand, (Name). I killed his parents!” he replied in a huff.

“That. Wasn't. You, Bucky,” you said, emphasizing each word. “That was HYDRA and, yeah, you may have been the tool they used to do it, but it was still their orders! They forced you to do it or they would've tortured you for any defiance, wouldn't they?”

“That's still no excuse.” 

You sighed, deflating, “Stark, himself, just told Steve that he's here to offer an olive branch.” you told him. “The question is, are you courageous enough to accept it or are you going to continue to sit in here and hide away from the world?” 

Bucky bit his lip, his breathing had finally leveled out to a semi-normal pace, but he sat looking at you almost like a small, vulnerable child, “Will you stay with me?” he asked, you could tell that he hated asking for that kind of help and support. 

“I thought you weren't safe for me to be around?” you reminded him. 

Bucky gave you the tiniest of smiles, “Well, as I said this morning, you're nuts so...” 

“True.” you nodded, smirking. “Of course I'll stay with you, Bucky.” you replied, your own voice softening as you got to your feet and offered him your hand. “I'll be right beside you the entire time, if that's what you want?” 

Bucky nodded, taking your hand and standing up.

“You never answered my question. Did I hurt you?” 

“Just a small bump on the head.” you explained. “I'll be fine.” 

Bucky's face crumbled, “God, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, (Name).” 

“I'll be alright, Bucky. I've gotten much worse than a simple bump on the head at work. Now stop it with the pity party already! Dinner's ready, let's go and get some before the others eat it all.” you joked, slowly pulling him out of the bathroom door and back down the hall. 

“There you both are! We were beginning to wonder if we should send a search party.” Sam said, as you and Bucky stepped back into the living room, your hand still grasped firmly in his. This didn't go unnoticed by some of the people in the room, as Steve gave Natasha and Clint a knowing look.

“Well judging by Barnes' messed up hair, I'd say that they had a hot make out session in the bathroom.” Clint cut in while stuffing some chicken into his mouth, making the both of you blush at the idea. 

“No, we didn't, Clint. We just...had a small issue that needed to be taken care of.” you explained.

“Oh? I didn't peg Barnes to be a 'small' kind of guy.” Natasha replied with a smirk, your blush deepening at the obvious innuendo. 

“Oh my God!” you laughed, covering your face with your free hand, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Come on, Bucky, let's get something to eat before the others start ganging up on us too.” You pulled him behind you, toward the kitchen. 

“Guys, take it easy.” Steve commanded. 

“We call it like we see it, Cap.” Clint shrugged. 

Steve grinned, rolling his eyes, as he sat down his plate of food and followed you and Bucky into the other room, “Hey, everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Bucky just had a bit of an issue with Tony being here.” you explained quietly. 

Steve pursed his lips, “I was afraid that it might cause you trouble, Buck.” 

You carefully contemplated your next words, trying to figure out if you would be overstepping a line if you said them. You finally realized that they needed to be said regardless. If Steve wasn't going to use his head when it came to these things, then someone needed to remind him, “Well there's that and then there's the fact that you didn't tell him that you were inviting other people tonight either.” you gently reprimanded. 

Steve looked horrified at himself, “Oh, God! I'm sorry, Bucky, I didn't think...I'm sorry.” he shook his head. 

“It's okay, Stevie.” Bucky murmured. 

Steve turned to you, “I'm sorry, (Name), I honestly didn't really think about it.” 

“It's alright, Steve. I just mentioned it because I was concerned for Bucky.” 

“I'm okay now, (Name).” Bucky replied, with a furrowed brow. 

“You sure?” you asked, as both you and Steve looked at him.

“I'm sure.” he nodded, as he turned to grab a plate and began to hand it to you. 

“Oh, no! You go ahead and get your food, I have to check the dessert in the oven.” 

“'Dessert?'” Steve asked, in a rather contrite tone. 

“Plum cobbler.” you replied, opening the oven. 

“Oooh, that sounds delicious!” Steve said, rubbing his stomach. 

“Well, it's almost done. But before you can have any, you have to go and finish your dinner.” you inner maternal instincts kicking in.

“Yes, ma'am!” Steve saluted you and scurried off into the next room to presumably clean his plate. 

Everything was silent in the kitchen for a moment, as both you and Bucky piled food onto your own plates, then he spoke, “You didn't have to scold Steve for not telling me about his guests.” 

You paused in what you were doing, staring at him, “I'm sorry if I overstepped a boundary, Bucky.” 

“It's fine.” he replied, gruffly. 

You took in his troubled expression and the gruffness with which he addressed you, “No, it clearly isn't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I was just...worried about you.” you explained, placing a hand on his arm. “You've been through so much, those around you need to remember it.” 

“Thanks, (Name).” he replied, finally looking you in the eye. “I know you meant well, it's just that I don't like adding onto Steve's guilt. He already feels guilty enough for everything that happened to me.” 

“It wasn't his fault, just like it wasn't yours.” you said. 

“Yeah, but try convincing him of that.” he shook his head, as he spooned some mashed potatoes onto his plate. “When I wake up screaming from a nightmare in the middle of the night or when I have an attack, he always says that if he had been able to reach me, to keep me from falling, that I wouldn't be going through what I am now. I've tried telling him that I don't blame him, but the punk won't listen.” 

“Maybe it's just his way of working through things.” you shrug. “Though it probably wouldn't hurt for him to see a therapist, sounds like his has a lot of unresolved issues.” 

“Yeah, but I don't see him agreeing to something like that anytime soon. Hell, the only reason I'm seeing one is because of my release stipulations, like I've told you.” 

You sighed, shaking your head, “You army boys are the toughest nuts to crack, aren't you?” 

“I suppose.” Bucky replied, with a small quirk of his lips. 

You took a deep breath, “Alright, can't keep putting it off...you ready to join the others?” 

He took a deep breath of his own, steeling himself, and nodded. 

As the two of you entered the room, you felt the tension return. Steve was watching Tony, Tony was staring at Bucky, and Bucky was looking down at his feet, avoiding Tony's gaze as he walked over to the couch. 

“Sorry I don't have a dining table everybody, probably would've made things easier.” you said, trying and failing to break the tense atmosphere. 

“That's alright, (Name). The food's delicious, regardless.” Sam said, catching on to what you were trying to do. 

“Thank you, Sam.” you replied, then tenseness returned. It seemed as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting to see what was going to happen. 

Finally, Tony broke the silence, “Look, I came here to say that...” he paused, trying to find the right words. “That I understand the circumstances of my parents death and the role you played in it, Barnes... I've seen the HYDRA reports and, in some cases, videos of what they did to you...I'm not saying that I can forgive you for what happened just yet, but...I do understand why it happened.” 

Bucky stared down at his food rather than look at Stark, shoving it around his plate without really eating it. “I am sorry, Tony. I can never tell you how very sorry I am.” he murmured. “Howard was as much my friend as he was Steve's...I would have never done anything to hurt him under different circumstances.” he finally raised his head to look Tony in the eye. Everyone else remained silent, allowing them this moment of understanding and healing. 

Tony took a deep breath, “What they did to you was...it was brutal. I was once a captive myself, so I understand, or at least I'm trying to understand...now that I've had time to cool down. I'm not saying that we're going to be best buddies now, or any time in the near future, but I want you to know that I get it.” 

Bucky nodded silently. 

“I also want to apologize for attempting to kill you in the courtroom.” Tony continued. 

“It's a natural response, I didn't expect for you to be any different. I deserved what you did to me and much more.” 

At that, you wandered exactly what Tony had been able to do to Bucky before someone had stopped him. 

“It wasn't my place to decide to do that without all of the evidence at my disposal.” 

“Like I said, I didn't expect anything less. After what I did and the damage I caused in your life, you were right to try and kill me.” Bucky replied, staring back down as his plate, well aware of all of the eyes in the room being trained on him. He suddenly felt very exposed and uncomfortable and was about to excuse himself again when he felt it. You had reached out and laid a warm hand on the flesh of his forearm, moving it slowly down until you had once again intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing them gently in a show of support. 

“If I might cut in?” Clint asked, suddenly. “For what it's worth, Barnes, I know what it's like to be...unmade, I suppose would be the correct word. To have someone take your head and play with it. It's not a great feeling.” 

At that admission, Bucky looked at Clint in surprise, “You do?” 

“Yeah, before that whole fiasco with the aliens over in Manhattan, the person responsible, an Asgardian called Loki. He used a weapon, actually the gem that's embedded in Vision's forehead now, to take control of my mind.” Bucky gave him a confused look, he didn't understand how a gem could be used to control someone's mind and he wasn't exactly sure what an 'Asgardian' was. Clint shook his head, “It's all very complicated. But the point I'm trying to make is that I killed a lot of good SHIELD agents, a lot of good people, while I was under his control. I know what that guilt feels like...I carry mine with me everyday.” he finished. 

“We all have our demons.” Natasha said quietly, staring unseeingly down at the floor in front of her. 

“That we do.” Sam agreed. “But the true measurement of our worth is how we deal with them. Do we let them consume us or do we consume them and rise from the ashes?” 

All was silent for a moment, as everyone mulled over Sam's words, then, “Wow, that was...surprisingly very deep, Wilson.” Tony replied. 

“The Hell you mean by 'surprisingly'? I know I'm not Shakespeare, but give me some credit, man.” Sam shot back, with a smirk. You suspected it was his way of lightening the mood and it worked. 

The tension that had hung so heavily in the room had now broken. Everyone seemed to take a deep, calming breath as you all smiled.

“I think we could use something a bit stronger than wine after all of that. (Name), you wouldn't happen to have anything, would you?” Tony asked. 

“Hmm. I don't know, I think I might have a bottle of bourbon stashed away somewhere. Let me go and check.” you replied, getting up and stepping into the kitchen to look through your cabinets. “Aha!” you cried a minute later, producing the bottle and a few shot glasses from the back of a shelf under your counter. Grabbing a paper towel you wiped them clean and balanced them in your arms as you carried them into the living room and sat them on the coffee table. 

Tony, taking the initiative, opened the bottle and poured a round for everyone. Once everybody had picked up their glass, he raised his own and said, “To defeating our demons!” 

A round of 'cheers' and 'hear!, hear!' went up as you all threw back your shots, some of you coughing and sputtering at the strength of the liquor. 

“Right! So now that the dark talk is behind us...who wants some plum cobbler for dessert?” you asked, once you had gotten your breath back. 

“It depends, is there ice cream included in that offer?” Sam asked, playfully suspicious. 

“Of course, Sam, it's a given.” you grinned.

“In that case, I'm in.” he declared. 

“Me too!” Clint said. 

“I've already said it sounded delicious.” Steve replied. 

“I'll certainly take some.” Sharon said.

“Sounds good, doll.” Bucky murmured beside you. 

“Alright, let me go and take it out of the oven.” you said, raising to do just that. 

A short time later, everyone sat back in the living room indulging their sweet tooth with your dessert. Some mindless chatter floated around until, “So (Name), you said that you're in medical school?” Tony prompted. 

“Um, yeah, I'm in my last year at the moment. I'm doing my rotations down at Brooklyn Hospital.” you explained, then stuffed another bite of cobbler into your mouth. 

“You'll have to do a residency after graduation, correct?” he asked. 

“Yes, I'd imagine so.”

“Any idea where that will be?” 

“I suppose the same place where I work now. Why? What are you getting at, Tony?” you asked, surprised that he would broach the subject. 

“Well, I was going to say that I could pull a few strings here and there and you could do your residency on the medical floor at the Tower. Dr. Cho splits her time between here and Korea and usually has to commute to treat us and, aside from her, we have only one other permanent physician onsite. So, I thought I'd ask and see if you would be interested?” 

For the second time your jaw dropped, “I would certainly be interested!” 

“When do you graduate?” 

“In a few months.” 

“Great! I'll talk to the proper people and make the arrangements and you'll have a job waiting for you when you get your degree.” 

You were stunned, “That's very, very generous of you, Tony. Thank you!” 

“It's the least I could do after such a great meal.” he replied. 

You laughed, “I didn't realize that my cooking was worth a dream job. I'll have to do it more often if that's the case.” 

“I certainly wouldn't complain.” Steve commented, patting his stomach. 

“Yeah, it's not everyday we get a good home cooked meal.” Clint said, a bit of longing in his voice. 

“You're all welcome here anytime.” you said, cheerfully. 

A second or two of silence passed then, “Well, I hate to eat and run, but Nat and I have an early mission in the morning. We should probably go and prepare for it.” said Clint. 

“Yeah, we should.” Natasha agreed. 

“Oh? I wish you could both stay longer.” you replied. 

“Oh, don't worry, we'll be back.” Natasha said, giving you a rather mysterious smirk. 

“Especially if there's a promise of good food.” said Clint. 

“Yeah, I should probably get going too. I have to be at work early tomorrow for a meeting.” Sharon said, standing to her feet. 

Steve stood as well, “I'll walk you out, Sharon.” 

“Thank you, Steve.” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Before you go, would any of you like some leftovers?” 

“Oh, I'll definitely take some if you've got some to spare.” Sam replied. 

“I'm pretty sure I'm going to have enough to feed a small army, Sam.” you laughed moving into the kitchen and pulling out some Tupperware. “Anyone else?” 

“I wouldn't mind taking some of that plum cobbler back to Pepper.” Tony said, as he stood and pulled on his discarded jacket. 

“Consider it done, Tony.” you said, as you filled several containers with uneaten food and handed them to their prospective takers. 

Afterward, you walked everyone to the door, “Thank you all for coming!” you said.

“Thanks for having us! Dinner was great!” Clint said, as he and Natasha slipped into their coats. 

“Yeah, this was nice.” Natasha replied, surprisingly holding out her hand. 

“Well, we'll have to do it again sometime.” you suggested, shaking her proffered hand.

“I'm pretty sure you won't get any objections.” Clint grinned, also shaking your hand. “We'll see you around.” 

“See you later.” you replied. 

“Bye, Doc! Thanks for dinner.” Sam said. 

“Bye...Wilson!” you said, dramatically. 

“Never going to hear the end of that, am I?” 

“Nope.” you smiled. 

“I'll see you around, Doc!” he grinned.

“Bye, Sam.” you laughed. 

“Thank you for having me. I really enjoyed it!” Sharon said, stepping up next. “It was nice to finally put a face to the name that Steve and Sam so often talk about.” 

“Thank you for coming and thanks again for the wine!” 

“You're welcome! Good night!” she replied with a smile, stepping out the door. 

“You need any help cleaning up?” Steve asked, as he moved past you. 

“Nah, I'll be fine. It's just a few dishes after all. You go ahead with Sharon.” 

“Alright, I'll see you later, (Name.)” Steve said, as he followed her out. 

“Oh, and Steve?” you called after him, causing both he and Sharon to pause. 

“Yes?” he asked, looking at you expectantly. 

“Remember to practice safe fonduing!” you said with a playfully serious expression, wagging your finger at him. 

You were rewarded by his face flushing a bright crimson, “Oh my God!” he said, rubbing a hand over his blushing cheeks.

“What does that mean?” Sharon asked, innocently, with a slight quirk of her lips.

“Sorry, Steve. You know I had to say it.” you grinned. 

“You're terrible!” he laughed, embarrassed. 

“Bye!” you replied, grinning. 

You heard Tony snort behind you, “I'm gonna assume that that was a joke at the good Captain's expense?” 

“Oh, yeah!” you replied. 

“I knew I liked you for a reason! We're going to get along splendidly when you come to work at the tower.” 

“Thanks again for the opportunity. I really hope I can live up to the expectations.” 

“I'm sure you will. I've heard nothing but good things.” 

“If it's from Steve and Sam, I'm pretty sure that they're biased.” 

“Maybe, but we'll see. I'll be seeing you, (Name.)” he said, stepping through the door. 

“Goodbye, Tony.” 

You breathed a happy sigh, as you shut the door behind him, turning back into your apartment. 

“I should probably be going too.” Bucky said, standing from his position on the couch. 

“You don't have to run off.”

“You've put up with me all day, I'd have thought you would want some time to yourself.” 

“I honestly don't mind having you around, Bucky.” 

He smiled softly at your admission, “I really should go, though.” 

“Alright, I'm not going to hold you hostage.” you laughed, but had to hide a blush at the thoughts that that sentence brought to mind. “Do you want to take some leftovers too?” 

“If it's not too much trouble.” 

“It's not. Plus I've got to give you your doughnuts, I was about to forget them.” 

You made your way into the kitchen, where you proceeded to load up a plate of food and wrap it in plastic wrap, then a Tupperware full of cobbler, and stacked the both of them on top of the doughnut box. You turned back toward the living room to take him the items, but instead found him standing in the doorway. 

“Here you are.” you said, handing him the food. 

He glanced down at it for a moment, not saying anything, and then sat it all on the counter. To your surprise, he stepped closer to you and stopped mere inches away. He slowly, almost cautiously, raised his flesh hand and laid it against your cheek. “Thank you, for today,...for everything that you've done for me really.” 

Coming out of your initial shock at the gesture, you brought your hand up and laid it on top of his. “You're welcome, Bucky.” you replied quietly, smiling. 

He moved closer still and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips brush against your forehead, he held them there for a moment. Both of your faces were tinged a slight pink when he pulled away, “Goodnight, (Name.)” 

“Goodnight, Bucky.” you breathed. 

In the next instant, he had picked up his food and was gone. You breathed a sigh, remembering the feel of his hand on your cheek and his lips against your skin, blushing even more deeply than before. You shook yourself from your rampant thoughts and turned your attention to your dirty dishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm not entirely satisfied with this, but I hope it's okay anyway. And if I don't get another update out in the next few days, I just want to say Happy Holidays to all of you! I hope you enjoyed this! As always, please leave kudos and comments if you wish.


	9. In Sickness...

“Ugh!” you groaned, sniffling for what seemed to be the one hundredth time in under a minute. You were currently sitting cross-legged on your couch, wrapped head to toe in a woolly blanket, shivering like you were in the middle of the arctic tundra. “Damn flu!” you mumbled to yourself, trying and failing to breathe through your nose. 

You had been late getting your vaccine this year and had been scheduled to take it just the day prior, but you had began feeling sick and hadn't been able to. So there you sat, feeling miserable, almost to the point of crying and had been in such a condition for a day and a half. 

A sudden knock sounded on your door and you looked longingly toward it, hoping that the person would just go away and let you continue to die in peace. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

No such luck. 

You closed your eyes, mentally willing yourself to not murder whomever it was for making you move from your comfortable nest. You stood, holding the blanket over your head like a hood and grasping the edges closely to your chest, until only your face was visible, then made your way over to answer. 

Just as the person was starting to knock again, you threw open the door, with a glare, “If your selling something...” you began, only to stop when you saw the other person. “Oh! Hi, Bucky...Achoo!” you sneezed into the tissue you held in your hand. 

“Uh, hey, (Name), Steve and I...well, we were wondering if you would like to come to dinner?” he asked slowly, his brow furrowing. “Are you okay? What's wrong?” 

“I've got the damn flu.” you mumbled, sniffling as you turned around to walk back to the couch, leaving the door open for him to enter. 

“The flu?!” he asked worriedly, following behind you. “Isn't that deadly? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?” 

“Says the man who refuses to go to the hospital.” you mumbled, sitting yourself back down and rubbing a hand over your face. “These days it's just an inconvenience...a very annoying and partially painful inconvenience.” 

“You sure about that, doll?” he asked, his worry evident in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Please tell Steve thanks for the invitation, but that I'll have to decline for now. I couldn't really taste anything at the moment, anyway.” 

Bucky stood rather awkwardly, he didn't want to leave you in your current condition, but he had also promised Steve that they would watch one of the movies they had both missed. 

“You can stay if you like, though I'm not really the best company when I'm sick.” you offered, sensing his obvious unease. 

“I promised Steve that we would watch a movie. Have a 'catch up night' as he calls them.” 

“Oh? What movie are you watching?” 

“Star Wars.” 

You stared at him wide eyed, surprised,“You mean you and Steve haven't seen the movies?” 

Bucky shook his head, “No...well, we watched Episode IV a few nights ago. Tonight's gonna be the next one.” 

“You haven't watched the prequels yet, have you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. 

“No, I think Clint told Steve to watch episodes IV, V, and VI first. Don't know why.” he shrugged.

“Oh my God! That means that you guys don't know! You're the last two unspoiled people on the planet!” you wheezed in excitement. “Oh, man! I wish I could be there to see your faces when you find out.” 

“Find out what?” Bucky asked, confusedly with a small smile. 

“Oh, no! No, no, no! I'm not going to tell you anything!” you laughed, but ended up in a coughing fit. “Oh, remind me not to laugh.” you said, laying a hand on your painful chest. 

“Alright, well.” Bucky bit his lip. “Do you need anything before I go?” 

“No, I'm okay.” you swatted your hand through the air, dismissively. “Thanks, Bucky.” 

“You sure?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I'll be fine. You go ahead and watch the movie.” you managed to grin your suspicious grin, despite your discomfort. 

“Um...okay, I'm...uh...just down the hall if you need me...or Steve.” he said, quietly, almost shyly. 

After his last encounter with you, he was uncertain how to act around you and as a result, he had been reluctant to agree to Steve's request that he invite you to dinner. He was afraid that he might have overstepped a boundary that you didn't wish to cross by kissing you on the forehead after the dinner party a few nights prior. He had thought about it for days, unable to forget the feel of your skin beneath his lips (even if it was just an innocent gesture). He had had several dreams that had surprisingly taken the place of his usual nightmares, where he was kissing you in more...intimate ways...but of course you most certainly didn't need to know that. 

“Alright, I'll see you later, Bucky...if I don't die from lack of oxygen first. Damn congestion.” you mumbled, as Bucky made his way out of your apartment and back to Steve's. 

When he entered he found Steve in the kitchen, a takeout menu and cell phone in hand, waiting for him to return. 

“(Name)'s not coming? Did she have to work?” he asked in surprise, his brow furrowing. 

“No, she's sick. She's got the flu.” Bucky explained, leaning his hip against the counter. 

“The flu? Is she okay?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow. 

“She said that she would be...but in all honesty, Stevie, I'm kinda worried about her. She didn't look or sound too good just now.” 

It was true, despite your reassurance, Bucky was very worried. When he and Steve were young, the flu was a very serious thing, people often died as a result of it. You had been one of the few good things in his life lately and he hoped beyond hope that you would be okay, like you said, but he still felt very anxious. 

“Hmm...” Steve mused, mulling over what Bucky had just told him. “Well, what do you say we take dinner to her? Since she's sick, I could whip up some of Ma's chicken broth for her.” 

“You still remember that recipe?” Bucky asked, a slight, sentimental smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, of course, Ma made sure of that. Always was persistent about it.” Steve smiled, lost in a wave of nostalgia. 

“Yeah, I think I remember.” Bucky replied, thinking fondly of the few, scant memories that remained of Mrs. Sarah Rogers. 

“I'm sorry, James, but Steven can't come out to play today. He isn't feeling so well.” Mrs. Rogers voice floated through his mind. 

“Is he gonna be alright, Mrs. Rogers?” he had asked her, concerned for his best friend. 

“Yes, he just needs his rest.” she replied, looking down into his anxious eyes. “You may come in and eat some broth with him, if you like.” 

Bucky had nodded enthusiastically and quickly made his way into the Rogers' apartment. He walked into Steve's small bedroom and found frail, little Steve sitting up in his bed, coughing and wheezing. 

“Hey, Stevie!” 

“Hey, Buck!” Steve managed to say through a cough. 

“Your Ma said that I could come in and eat with you. You don't mind, do ya?” 

In light of the fact that Steve didn't really have the breath to speak, he just shook his head. After all, Mrs. Rogers' cooking was something that shouldn't be missed, even if it was just plain old broth. 

Steve was the first to shake himself from his thoughts, “So, what do you say?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Bucky shrugged, sure he was a little nervous about being around you, but he figured with Steve there as a buffer, it would be alright. Plus his anxiety about your current health outweighed the nervousness. He would rather come off as a shy, bumbling doofus around you than to think of you being on your own in such a condition as you currently were. “She said that she would love to see our faces when we watch the next Star Wars movie, anyhow.” 

“Clint said the same thing. You don't think it's something bad, do you?” Steve said. 

“No, (Name) was grinning about it, so it can't be. Right?” 

“Maybe.” Steve shrugged, as they both looked suspiciously over at the Blu-Ray case laying on top of Steve's new player that he had received courtesy of Clint. It was quiet between them for a few moments, then, “Right, I'll grab the ingredients that I'll need and you grab the movie.” 

“Yes, sir.” Bucky saluted him with a small smile, to which Steve rolled his eyes with an surprised smirk on his lips. As he gathered the needed materials for the broth, he mused over the fact that more and more often lately he had been seeing hints of his old friend come to the surface. Bucky had reached a point where he would make small gestures or say some offhanded comment that had once been commonplace for him. Steve would often find himself happily overwhelmed by the idea that he was finally getting his best friend back and he had a feeling that it had a lot to do with your influence. 

He stepped into the living room and found Bucky waiting for him by the front hall. A minute later found the two of them standing outside your door, waiting for you to answer their knocks. 

“Ughhh!” They heard you groan. 

“Wow, you weren't kidding! I don't think I've ever heard anyone make that noise.” Steve said, worriedly. 

You opened the door and found yourself staring at not only Bucky, but Steve too. 

“I thought you were going to eat and watch a movie?” you asked. 

“We are.” said Steve. “But we figured we would do it here. 

You smiled, a small quirk of your lips, “That's sweet and all, guys, but I don't want to risk getting the both of you sick too.” 

“We can't get sick. Super soldiers, remember? Besides I'm gonna make you some broth my mother always made for me when I'd get sick.” 

“Yeah, back when he was just a skinny waif.” Bucky cut in, Steve glanced at him smiling at the comment.

You looked at them for a moment, considering, “Okay, come on in. You'll have to excuse my appearance and my messy apartment.” you said, moving so they could walk past you. 

“That's fine, we understand, doll.” Bucky said, moving past you with Steve. 

You nodded, then, “Wait, you guys can't get sick?” you asked, as you closed the door behind them. 

“Nope.” Steve replied, heading toward your kitchen with his supplies. 

“Damn, what I wouldn't give for some of that super soldier serum right about now.” 

“It does have it's perks.” you heard Steve's disembodied voice float out of the other room. 

“So says Captain America!” you called back, wheezing afterward. 

“We also brought Star Wars with us.” Bucky said, waving the Blu-Ray through the air. 

“Oh?” you said, raising your eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, yeah, this just might turn out to be a good night.” you smiled, motioning for him to join you on the couch. “Come on and sit with me until Steve finishes whatever kind of soup he's making.” 

“It's chicken broth, his Ma would always force him eat it when he would get sick.” Bucky supplied, fulfilling your request as he sank down on the seat beside you. “It always seemed to help him.” 

“I hope it's good. I haven't been able to eat very much in the past few hours and what I have eaten, I couldn't really taste, like I said.” 

“From what little I remember, it was always very good.” 

All was quiet between you for a moment, as you struggled to get more cozy under your blanket. Then Bucky spoke, “(Name), I...” he began, then paused. “I wanted to...apologize to you. If I've made you uncomfortable in any way, I'm sorry.” 

“'Made me uncomfortable?' Wherever did you get that idea, Bucky?” 

“I was afraid that I might've overstepped a line the other night, after the dinner party.” 

“Oh.” was your reply, as you remembered the incident. In all honesty, his gesture had done everything but make you uncomfortable. You finally shook your head, smiling, “You didn't do anything wrong, Bucky. I didn't mind.” 'I didn't mind not one bit. Only next time you could kiss me on the...' you quickly cut that thought out. Here you were, sick and miserable, and your mind still managed to concoct fantasies. 

“I just...I was worried about it.” he said, staring down at his intertwined fingers. 

You reached over and laid your hand on top of his, “Don't be.” 

The two of you were smiling softly at one another as Steve stepped into the room and spoke, “Well, the food will be done in a little bit.” he explained, as he made his way over to a chair perpendicular to you and Bucky. 

“Who knew that Captain America could cook too? You're very handy, indeed, Steve.” you said. 

“Thanks! But to be fair it is just a simple broth. 'Bout the only thing I know how to make.” he laughed modestly. “How about you? How are you feeling?” 

“Currently? Like I've been ran over by a tank...several times.” you wheezed out. 

“Shouldn't you be in the hospital?” he asked. 

“I already asked that.” Bucky said, quietly. 

“Like I told Bucky, the flu isn't as serious in this day and age. I'll be fine.” 

“You sure? It was a pretty serious thing in mine and Bucky's day.” 

“Yeah, and so was tuberculosis, pneumonia,...I hear the black plague was terrible. How ever did you two survive?” you joked, grinning. 

Steve smiled and shook his head, “It's good to see that your sense of humor is intact.You know between you and Natasha, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to live down the old man jokes.” 

“You mean...” you had to stop to cough. “Sorry. You mean she actually makes jokes?” 

“Yeah. Nat can seem a bit up tight at first, but once you get to know her she opens up a more.” Steve explained. 

“Well, she did seem a little reserved and quite...intense, the other night.” you replied, sheepishly. “Scared the Hell out of me at the beginning.” 

“She does that.” Steve explained. 

“Clint was friendly though. He seemed to be the yang to Natasha's yin.” you coughed again. 

“Yeah, he's a good guy. They've known each other for years and get along really well.” Steve agreed. 

“And then there was Sharon.” you teased. 

“Oh, no.” Steve said, rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling and blushed. 

“How did my fonduing comment go over?” 

Steve blushed again, “You know, because of you, I had to explain everything about that comment in detail.”

“You know I don't think I ever heard the story behind it.” you prompted. 

“Oh, goodness! Where do I begin?” Steve shook his head. 

“He was on his way to a HYDRA base to rescue me and my unit.” Bucky cut in, surprising both you and Steve. “Wasn't that how it happened?” 

Steve blinked in astonishment, then smiled, “Yeah, that's how it began. Howard Stark and Peggy Carter were flying me in under the military's radar. Everyone else had givin' up on the unit's return. They were so many miles behind enemy lines that no one could get to them.” 

“'Cept this idiot.” Bucky jerked his thumb toward Steve. 

“As you may have guessed I had quite the crush on Peggy, so when Howard suggested that they stop for fondue I thought it was an innuendo. A few month's later, Peggy caught me kissing another lady and when she seemed angry about it, I told her that I though she and Howard were 'fonduing.' Howard later explained to me what exactly fondue was.” 

By the end of the story you were giggling at Steve's former awkwardness. 

“But you left out the best part, Steve.” Bucky said. “Wasn't that the day you were picking out a shield to use in the field?” 

“Yeah.” Steve replied. 

“Right, so, after having made that comment to Ms. Carter, he picked up what is now his shield and asked her what she thought. And she picked up a pistol and shot at him.” 

“Seriously?!” you wheezed, coughing. 

“Yeah, that was a bit embarrassing though.” Steve replied, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks turned pink. 

“The guys and I teased him relentlessly for weeks afterward.” Bucky said. 

Steve looked at Bucky in wonder, “You remember all of that, Buck?”

“Yeah, I suppose I do.” Bucky replied, looking rather stunned. 

All was silent for a moment and then, “Well, I, for one, would've loved to have met Peggy!” you said, through your stuffiness. 

“Something tells me you two would've gotten along just fine.” Steve said. “But you actually met some of her family when you met Sharon the other night. She is Peggy's niece.” 

“Really?” you said, surprised. 

“Yeah, and that made it ten times more embarrassing when explaining everything to her.” 

You heard Bucky snort out a laugh beside you. 

“Oh, you're so welcome for that, Steve.” you grinned, then launched into another round of coughs, which caused both of them to give you concerned looks, especially when you hunched over holding your now aching chest. 

“Okay, you really need to go to the hospital.” Steve said, raising from his seat and pulling out his cell.

“Steve,” you managed to get out. “If you're calling an ambulance, I don't care if you are freaking Captain America, I will. Murder. You.” you stressed every word, glaring at him.

“(Name), you need to go get checked out.” he argued 

“I'm fine, really! Can't we just stay here, eat some of your soup, and watch Star Wars? Please? I don't wanna go to the hospital!” you whined, giving Steve your best puppy dog eyes. 

Steve looked at Bucky, who was anxiously biting his lip, staring at you, “Doll, that cough of yours sounds really bad. You know I'm not one for hospitals, but maybe you should go get checked out.” he said. 

“I'm okay, Bucky.” you said, trying and failing to hold in a cough at the end. 

In that moment, you had both Captain America and the Winter Soldier giving you looks of disbelief and worry. You sighed, as best you could while trying to breathe properly. “Look, if I'm not feeling better by the morning, I promise I'll go to the E.R. Okay?” you laid out your terms. 

The two of them looked at one another for a long moment, then turned back to you, “Alright, deal.” Steve said. “And you can bet that the two of us will hold you to that.” 

“Sir, yes, sir!” you playfully saluted him. 

“They always did say that doctors make the worse patients.” Steve said, shaking his head as he made his way into the kitchen to check the progress of his broth. 

“For the record, I'm not a doctor yet.” you quietly called after him. You felt eyes on you then and turned to Bucky. “What is it?” you asked. 

“I'm just worried about you, doll.” 

“You know, you two are worse than two old mother hens.” you grumbled, crossing your arms.

Bucky smiled. 'God! There's that beautiful smile.' you thought. 

“I think I picked up the habit while I was taking care of Steve back in the day.” 

“And where did he pick it up?” 

“From worrying about Bucky, of course.” Steve replied, stepping back into the room with a bowl of broth in each hand. “Here. Eat this.” he said, as he handed both you and Bucky a bowl and spoon. 

“Thanks, Steve.” you murmured, already digging in. “Mmm! This is amazing! I can actually taste it!” 

It was a simple soup with bits of chicken and a few vegetables thrown in, but somehow it was absolutely incredible. 

“I'm glad you like it. It was what helped get me through a number of sick days as a kid.” Steve said, as he returned with his own bowl full and sat it on the coffee table. 

“You'll have to give me the recipe.” you said. 

Steve shook his head, “No can do, (Name).” 

“Why not?” 

“It's a secret family recipe.” he grinned. 

“You can't even give it to a good friend?” 

“Nope. My Ma swore me to secrecy, can't let her down now.” 

You laughed, “You, sir, are an enormous dork. Isn't he, Bucky?” 

“Yeah.” he agreed with a smile. 

You turned to give him a suspicious look, “What about you? Do you know anything about this recipe?” 

Bucky's brow furrowed, “I...can't remember.” he replied, dejectedly. 

The playful mood of the room changed with his admission. 

“Hey, it's okay if you can't remember.” you said, reaching out and taking his hand. “I was just joking around with Steve.” 

Bucky nodded, staring down at your entwined hands. 

"Are you okay?" you asked. 

"Yeah. I just wish I could remember more." he said. Privately, he had been struggling with his missing memories. He felt inadequate, not whole in a sense, and in situations like this, the feelings just got worse. 

"You will! You just gotta give yourself more time, Bucky." you paused to cough. "I mean for someone whose been through what you have, you are doing spectacularly well. You remembered all of that about Steve's fonduing blunder earlier! And all of the stuff you remembered about your family when we went shopping the other day. " you finished, sniffling.

"You know she's right, Buck." Steve gave his friend an encouraging look. 

"I guess so." was his reply. 

“Should we start the movie now?” Steve asked, changing the subject to try and lighten the darkened mood. 

“Fine by me.” you said, giving Bucky's hand a squeeze before letting go and stuffing another spoonful of deliciousness into your mouth. You swallowed as you watched Steve stare confusedly at the buttons on your Blu-Ray player. You glanced at Bucky, giving him a grin as you reached for the remote and hit the 'open' button. The player popped open as you lay the remote back on the table in front of you and startled Steve, “Okay, how did that happen?” he asked, staring at the device confusedly. 

“I don't know, you must've used your Jedi mind tricks on it.” you said, innocently, to which Bucky finally grinned. 

“Very funny, you two.” Steve replied as he inserted the disc and hit the play button. The opening crawl soon began and you settled yourself further into your seat, trying to get as comfortable as you could, because you were going to enjoy this. 

 

“Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.” said Darth Vader. You were bouncing up and down in your seat in anticipation. 

“He told me enough! He told me you killed him!” came Luke Skywalker's reply. You glanced at your two companions trying gauge if they had figured it out yet. 

“Oh, here it comes!” you said excitedly, trying to hold back a cough so you wouldn't ground out the next line. 

“No. I am your father.” 

“What?!” Steve said, surprised. 

“Well, I saw that coming.” Bucky said, after a moment. 

You grabbed the remote again and paused the movie, turning to look at him, “Oh, you did not!” you said, in disbelief. 

“Yeah. I did, actually.” he smirked. 

“Okay, Sergeant Smart-ass. How did you figure it out?” you playfully asked. 

Bucky grinned at you, “It's in his name.” he replied. 

“What about it?” 

“Vader is similar to the German word for Father- Vater. Even the pronunciation is somewhat similar. So, I just kinda assumed that that was supposed to be a hint.” 

Your jaw dropped at his explanation, “I...I had honestly never thought of that.” you said. “Huh.” then you laughed, “Wait, you're saying that his name is 'Darth Father'?” 

Bucky nodded, “Basically.” 

“Oh my God!” you continued laughing until you broke into a fit of vicious coughing. 

“Take it easy there, doll. Don't want you to kill over.” 

“Ahem. Hem. Sorry.” you wheezed. 

Steve who had, until that moment, sat silently taking in the banter between the two of you, finally spoke, “Well, I certainly didn't see it coming.” 

As you continued the movie, you felt your eyes drooping. You unconsciously scooted closer to Bucky and curled up against his side with your head resting on his shoulder. He was surprised, not only by the gesture, but at the warmth rolling off of you. It was clear that you had a fever. 

“I think I'll put her to bed, Steve.” Bucky said, gesturing to you. 

“She probably needs to take some kind of medication to help with the congestion and fever.” Steve replied, having been the son of a nurse had it's advantages...even if times had drastically changed. 

“Right. (Name?) (Name?) Wake up, doll.” 

“Hmm?” you mumbled, half asleep. 

“You got any medicine you have to take before going to bed?” 

“Huh uh, just Tylenol.” you managed to get out. 

“Where do you keep it, (Name)?” Steve asked. 

“Cabinet in the bathroom.”

“Alright, doll, wrap your arms around my neck.” Bucky commanded 

You did as he asked, without really realizing what he was doing, as he lifted you up off of the couch. You nuzzled your face into his neck and before you knew it, you felt the softness of your bed beneath you. 

“Here.” Steve's voice said, somewhere above you. 

“Doll, sit up for me, you need to take this.” Bucky said and you felt a pill being pushed into your palm and a cup of water into the other. 

Blearily, you sat up with Bucky's assistance, took the medicine, and then settled yourself back down into the pillows. 

“You need anything else, doll?” Bucky asked. 

“Huh uh.” you mumbled. 

“Alright. Steve and I are going to go.” he replied, turning to leave the room, only to realize that he couldn't get very far. You, in your half conscious state, had a firm grip on the hem of his shirt. “Doll, you're gonna have to let me go.” 

“No. Stay. Please!” you begged.

Bucky visibly gulped. 

“Maybe you should stay, Buck. I don't think that she should be alone in her current condition.” Steve suggested from the doorway. 

Bucky gave him a look that quickly told him that he wasn't helping the situation. “I'll stay in your spare bedroom, doll. That way if you need something, all you have to do is call out. Okay?” 

“Bucky, please stay. I'm cold.” you said, holding tightly to him. “Please?” 

He glanced at Steve, who only shrugged, and then sighed, “Alright, sweetheart. I'll stay.” he relented, laying down beside you. 

“I'll just show myself out.” Steve said, with a sly grin. “If you need something, Buck, I'll be in our apartment.” 

“Okay, Steve.” Bucky answered from beside you. 

In your sleepy daze, you curled up into his side and quickly fell asleep. Bucky had planned to remain only until he was certain that you were sleeping peacefully, but for whatever reason, he found himself unable to leave you. You looked like an angel, he decided, sleeping in his arms, even with your messy hair and wrinkled pajamas and because of that he couldn't quite make himself get up and go. So, he resigned himself to yet another sleepless night. Only instead of his nightmares keeping him awake, it was the feeling of you pressed firmly into his side...and that was something he didn't really mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all, I'm back! I am so sorry for making all of you wait so, so long for this! I've been dealing with some issues in my personal life these past few months, so I haven't really felt much like writing. And then suddenly today, inspiration struck. I don't know what caused it, but I just sat down in front of my computer and finished this chapter that I actually began back in December. If it is terrible, I do apologize. Seeing as I haven't written anything in a while, I'm afraid it's not up to par with my past writing. But I hope you enjoyed it, never-the-less! 
> 
> Also, I apologize if you're not a fan of Star Wars, it just felt like one of those iconic 20th century things that Bucky and Steve needed to catch up on. 
> 
> But as always, my dears, leave kudos and comments at your leisure!


	10. ...And In Slightly Better Health

You slowly woke up the next morning, uncertain as to whether the events of the night before had actually happened. The bed beside you was empty. A fact for which, despite feeling a bit disappointed, you were kind of glad. If you had made Bucky stay with you the night before against his will, well needless to say you were beyond embarrassed. 

You sat up in bed and slowly looked around the room for any sign of him. Apart from the sheets beside you being a little wrinkled, which you decided you could've caused yourself, there was nothing that made you believe that he had in fact stayed the night. 

“Please, let it just have been a very good dream! Please!” you muttered to yourself, as you slipped out of bed and made your way over to the bedroom door. As quietly as you could, you opened it and stuck your head out, looking down the hall toward the living room to see if you could see him anywhere. 

You breathed a relieved sigh when you didn't see any sign of him and crossed the hall to the bathroom. “It really must've been a dream.” you mumbled, as you opened the door and stepped inside. 

The first thing that tipped you off as to something being abnormal, was the amount of steam on the bathroom mirror, the second thing was Bucky's shirt and pants hanging on the back of the door, and the third was the sound of the water shutting off in the bathtub. 

“Shit!” you whispered, seeing an arm reach out from behind the curtain to grab a towel. 

In that moment several things happened. Bucky pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the shower, only to find you standing there with a look of shock on your face. Twisting around, you tried to make a swift exit, only to have your feet tangle in the throw rug on the floor. As you flailed your arms to try and regain some balance, you felt gravity take over and ended up literally falling into Bucky's arms. Bucky, in his haste to catch you, lost his own footing and the two of you ended up sprawled on the floor in a heap of limbs, with you laying half on top of him. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” you asked, glancing cautiously up at him, your hand unthinkingly laying on his bare chest and taking in the feel of his warm skin beneath your palm. “I didn't elbow you in the stomach or anything, did I?” 

He was staring at you rather breathlessly, but finally shook his head. 

“I...um...I'm sorry...I thought you had gone. I didn't know...I mean I...I swear I didn't plan this!” you stuttered, your hands coming up to cover your blushing cheeks, as he still held you within the circle of his arms. 

You felt Bucky start to shake and peeping up at his face through your fingers revealed him to be laughing. “I think I'm the one who should be apologizing, sweetheart. I would've went over to Steve's to shower, but I was afraid you would wake up and need something. I hope you don't mind that I used some of your soap and shampoo?” he asked, as he released you and the both of you slowly got back onto your feet. 

“No, not...not at all.” you replied, trying and failing to get your brain to work properly, which was a difficult thing to do, considering the sight of a dripping wet Bucky, standing before you in nothing but a towel that happened to be slung very low around his toned waist. You bit your lip to keep from outwardly moaning, as you watched a stray drop of water roll down his abdomen until it soaked into the cloth just below his navel. 

Then the silver of his arm caught your attention, it was the first time that you had actually seen it in it's entirety. You looked at his shoulder, where metal met flesh, and wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers, perhaps even your lips, down the seam. Bucky noticed your staring at the mottled flesh as you shook yourself from your thoughts, “I think I'll just...I'll step out so you can...um...get dressed...since your still wearing nothing but a towel...God!...I'm...I'm gonna go now.” you turned and quickly scurried out the door, your face and neck now totally red from your embarrassment. 

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky thought that you were flustered for an entirely different reason. He was afraid that the sight of his arm had frightened you, which was why you were stuttering more than usual. He made a mental note to apologize for that too as he slipped his clothing back into place. 

He found you in the kitchen, standing in front of the refrigerator, staring listlessly at the food inside. You seemed to be lost in thought, so he cleared his throat to alert you to his presence, to which you jumped, startled from your reverie. 

“Oh, Bucky...I...” you began. 

“(Name), I'm sorry if...if my arm scared you back there.” he interrupted, rubbing at his left shoulder. 

You furrowed your brow, “What?...No! No, it didn't scare me, Bucky!” you answered. 

He stared at you for a moment, confused, “Then why were you stuttering so much?” he asked quietly, hand still on his shoulder.

'Oh, shit!' you thought.“Are you hurt?” you answered his question with one of your own, in hopes of avoiding an awkward admission. “I didn't cause you to get hurt when we fell, did I?” 

“No, I'm alright. Are you? You seem to be feeling better.” 

“I'm fine. I am actually feeling a bit better than I was yesterday.” 

“That's good.” he nodded. “But you never answered my first question.” 

You gave him a pleading look, “Can we just let that go? For propriety's sake?” 

“I just wanted to make sure that my arm didn't scare you.” he explained, quietly. 

“Bucky, that wasn't what turned me into a stuttering mess.” 

“Then what did?” he persisted.

You anxiously bit your lip, you really didn't want to admit what had been going through your mind several minutes earlier. But the curious yet doubtful look Bucky was giving you left no room for any sort of white lie. With your mind made up, you took the plunge, “It was actually the sight of a handsome man, standing in my bathroom, practically naked and fresh from the shower.” you admitted, your cheeks flushing once again. 

Bucky bashfully looked at you through his eyelashes, unknowingly giving you a smoldering stare, “You...you think I'm handsome?” 

“Of course I do! What woman with working eyesight wouldn't?” 

It was Bucky's turn to blush, “Well, I don't know about all that, doll.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

There was a bit of an awkward silence between the two of you for a minute and then you decided to change the subject to try and salvage the moment, “So, what do you want for breakfast?” 

Bucky looked startled for a moment, before his brow furrowed, “What? You're not going to cook!” he stated, resolutely. 

“What do you mean? Of course I am! How else are we going to eat anything?” 

“(Name), you're still recovering from the flu! You need to take it easy, I'll do the cooking.” he said, stepping over, taking you by the shoulders, and pushing you toward the couch in the living room. 

“But I thought that you weren't 'much of a cook?'” you quoted.

“I'll figure something out.” he said. “Now you sit down and rest. I don't expect you to move from this spot, okay?” 

You gave him a half smile and nodded, “Okay.” you said, with a slight laugh, as you did as you were told and sat on the couch.

“You need anything?” he asked, hesitating in front of you. 

“Um, could you hand me my phone over there?” you pointed toward the table in the corner where you had placed it on charge the day before. 

“Sure.” he said, handing you the device. “Anything else?”

“No. Thanks, Bucky.” 

He nodded and you ended up silently listening as he began to ramble around through your kitchen. He was a rather noisy cook, you decided. “You sure you don't need any help, Bucky?” you asked, craning your neck to try and see around the corner. 

“Nope! You stay put, doll!” he called back. “Now if I can just turn this damn thing on...” you heard him mumble afterward, then a few seconds later, “Ouch! That got hot quick!” 

“Are you alright in there?” you asked. 'He's so adorably clueless!' you thought, with a grin. 

“Yep, everything's fine!...Let's see, this goes in the oven...No, that's not right...Damn!” 

You shook your head, turning your attention back to your phone screen. At this point you were checking your various text messages, noticing one from Steve, from a few minutes before, 

“Hey, just checking in on you guys. Are you feeling better?” 

“Yeah, I thankfully am.” you replied. 

“Good to hear! Listen, I tried texting Bucky, but he's not answering. What's he doing over there? It sounds like he's tearing the place down? Is everything okay?! He's not having an episode, is he?” 

“No, everything's fine! Bucky is just attempting to cook for me.” 

“Bucky's cooking?! Let me know if I need to call the fire brigade.” 

“He can't be that bad, can he?” 

You jumped after a particularly loud noise came from the kitchen. Bucky stepped back into the room with you, smoothing his still damp hair back with his flesh hand, “Alright, I give up! How the Hell do you work that damn microwave?” he asked, with a miffed expression.

“You mean all of that noise was you trying to figure out how to work a microwave?” you asked, with a raised brow.

“Only part of it.” he muttered, defeated.

You couldn't resist teasing him a bit, “You mean the big, bad Winter Soldier has been defeated by a little old microwave? Perish the thought!” 

“Very funny, sweetheart.” he replied, with a sour disposition. 

“Come on, I'll show you.” Taking pity on him, you stood up, shoving your phone into your pajama pocket, and unthinkingly grabbed his hand, pulling him along behind you into the kitchen.

You explained to him how everything worked and then he turned to you, “Right, I think I've got it. You go back and rest.” he commanded. 

“Can't I sit in here and keep you company? I'm rather bored sitting in there all by myself.” you asked, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 

Bucky sighed, he really didn't want you to witness his cooking blunders, but he couldn't resist your pleading expression. “Alright.” he agreed. 

You smiled at him and made an attempt to hoist yourself up onto the counter, but you didn't quite make it. The flu really had drained your strength. 

“Here, doll.” Bucky said, suddenly standing in front of you. He wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing, and sitting you on the counter. His hands, one warm and one cold, seemed to linger at your side. 

“Thanks.” you muttered, as you stared into his blue eyes, abruptly breathless from his close proximity. 

Neither of you seemed to want to move away, as you let your stare wander from his eyes down to his very kissable lips. The distance between the both of you seemed to be slowly shrinking...

And the moment was broken by the feeling of your phone vibrating in your pocket. 

Breathing a sigh, you pulled it out and glanced at the incoming text as Bucky seemed to reluctantly take a step back. 

“(Name), is that smoke I smell?!” Steve had sent. Only then did you and Bucky realize that the kitchen was indeed just beginning to fill with a smokey haze, that had thankfully not yet reached the fire alarm. 

“Shit!” Bucky exclaimed, turning toward the stove. He quickly opened the oven and grabbed the pan inside with his metal hand, throwing it down on the stove top and quickly fanning the smoke away. He sighed, staring down at the now unidentifiable breakfast food, defeated. 

After the moment that you had just had, it took you a second to find your voice, “Bucky, I appreciate what you're trying to do. I really do. But maybe we should just order something.” you suggested.

He nodded, “Actually ordering in might be a good idea.” 

Looking at the blackened food, “I'm going to have to teach you to cook one of these days. You can't get yourself a fine dame without knowing how to properly feed her anyway.” 

“Why would any sane woman want to be with me?” he mumbled in a defeated tone.

'Well, I guess that makes me insane.' you thought. Narrowing your eyes, you decided to try and lighten Bucky's sour mood, “Are you fishing for compliments, Sergeant? Cause I've already called you handsome once.” 

He was staring down at his feet, not saying a word, then, “'A fine dame?'” he quoted, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“What? Too much?” you asked, scrunching up your nose. “Do I need to stop watching those old movies whenever they're on tv?” you playfully asked. A sudden pounding sounded on your front door, “Oh, right! I forgot to reply to Steve!” you said, as you headed into the foyer to answer. 

“(Name!) Open up or I'm breaking down the door!” you heard Steve say. 

“Take it easy, Cap! Everything's perfectly fine.” you said, opening the door and allowing him inside. 

“I smelled smoke. Is everything okay?” Steve asked, making his way toward the kitchen. 

“Everything's alright, Steve. Bucky just had a bit of an accident with the oven. Nothing terrible.” you explained. 

“Oh? Well, you always were a horrible cook, Buck.” Steve teased. 

“Shut up, punk.” Bucky answered unthinkingly. 

Steve grinned a very large grin, “Jerk.” 

You smiled at their playful camaraderie, “We were just about to order some breakfast, Steve. Would you care to join us?” you asked. 

Steve's grin fell from his face,“That sounds wonderful, but I'm afraid I can't. I tried texting you earlier, Buck.” he said, turning toward Bucky. “I got called out on a mission a little while ago and I have to leave. I'll be gone for a day or two at the most. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah. I'll be fine, I think.” Bucky replied, with a nod and a look of concern. “You seem troubled, Steve. What sort of mission is it?” 

Steve glanced nervously between the two of you, “Well,” he paused. “we got word of a new HYDRA facility in the Alps. We're heading in to shut it down, before it gets up and running.” 

Bucky gave him a scrutinizing look, “That's not all, is it?”

Steve sighed, “We think Brock Rumlow is there.” 

There was a tense moment of silence, broken only by you, “Is this guy very dangerous?” you asked, looking between the two. 

“He's pretty...unpredictable.” Steve answered. “He was a member of a SHIELD strike team, but he and his team mates turned out to be HYDRA.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I remember him. He was there the last time they put me in the machine.” 

Your brow furrowed in confusion, “'The machine', Bucky?” 

“It's what they used to keep me under control and erase my memories.” 

A sudden shiver ran down your spine, “Steve,” you said, turning toward your friend. “Be careful, this guy sounds like trouble.” 

“We'll be as careful as we can be, (Name.)” he said. 

“I don't like this, Steve.” Bucky said. “How did you get the info on the base?” 

“It was buried in a batch of files that were randomly dumped online. Tony's A.I. Friday picked up on them.” 

“Look, I know I'm not in the superhero or spy business, but that sounds like someone setting a trap, Steve.” you said. 

Steve smiled at you, “Yeah, we know that it's most likely a trap.” 

“Then why go? Why even risk it?” you asked, shaking your head with a confused shrug. 

“Because it's what we do, (Name.) If it is a trap then we deal with it and wipe out the base in one go. And if it isn't a trap, if somebody was just being helpful, we still deal with the base and maybe get some insight into whoever tipped us off.” 

The three of you stood in silence for a moment, contemplating what Steve had just told you. 

“Just be careful, Steve. Don't take any unnecessary risks, okay? I'd like to have my friend and neighbor come back in one piece.” 

Steve laid a hand on your shoulder, “I'll be fine.” 

Bucky was staring at Steve apprehensively. 

“I will be fine.” Steve emphasized. 

Bucky finally nodded, “Like (Name) said, just be careful.” 

Steve nodded, “Well, I'm off.” he said, turning toward the door. 

“You sure you can't stay for breakfast, at least?” 

“Thanks, but no, Tony's set a pretty tight schedule.” 

“Alright, I'll see you when you get back I suppose.” 

Steve nodded, “Bye, Buck.” 

Bucky gave him a sharp nod, “Steve.” 

Steve stepped into the foyer and motioned for you to follow, “Could you keep an eye on Bucky? I hate leaving him alone.” 

“Of course, Steve. You don't have to worry.” 

“Thanks. I'm glad you're feeling better, (Name.) I'll see you when I get back.” 

“Bye, be safe!” 

Steve turned and stepped out the door, closing it behind him. 

Bucky was scowling at the floor when you reentered the kitchen. 

“You shouldn't worry, he's going to be alright, Bucky.” 

“I hope you're right, (Name.) HYDRA would do anything to get their hands on him, on any of the Avengers, really.” 

You laid a comforting hand on his upper arm, “We just have to hope for the best. They all know what they're doing and what they're getting into. I'm sure they've survived much worse.” You took a deep steadying breath, “Well, let's order some food.”

 

A while later, after your food had arrived and you had eaten, you and Bucky both sat on the couch, nursing your full stomachs. Bucky was staring at the far wall, seemingly lost in thought, and you knew that he was most likely worried about Steve. 

“I think that I'm going to go shower because I feel absolutely gross.” you announced, glancing down at your pajamas and trying to inconspicuously sniff them to make sure you didn't smell. 

“You sure you're strong enough to do that, doll?” Bucky asked, in concern, jolting out of his reverie. 

Remembering your moment of embarrassment earlier that morning, when a freshly showered Bucky had reduced you to a stammering mess of hormones, you decided a bit of revenge was in order, “Why? Are you offering to help?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

Bucky stared at you wide-eyed, “What?! No...I...I...I mean...” he began. 

You smiled, “Now whose a stuttering mess?” 

He gave a small huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he scrubbed a hand over his reddened face, “That was a cheap shot, doll. Truly.” 

“Oh, I try.” you smirked, as you rose from your seat. “Besides, it took your mind off of worrying, didn't it?” 

“Yeah, I suppose so.” he replied. 

“But I'll be sure to yell if I need that help.” you said, innocently, grinning over your shoulder at him. 

He glanced at the ceiling in exasperation, “Just go, doll, before you kill me with embarrassment.” 

Taking pity on him, you headed toward your bedroom to grab some clothes. Taking your chosen outfit and toiletries to the bathroom, you stopped in the hall just before the door. 

“Just make yourself at home, Bucky. If you want to watch something or read one of my books, go right ahead.” 

He nodded, “Alright.” 

With that exchange you stepped into the bathroom to shower. 

 

After you had bathed and completed your usual morning routine, you found yourself back on the couch beside Bucky. He was sitting on the end opposite you, reading silently as you brushed out your damp hair. 

“What are you reading?” you asked, curious as to which book he had chosen. 

“(Your favorite book.)” he answered. 

“Oh, that's my favorite!” you exclaimed. Biting your lip, you stared a Bucky for a moment, watching his eyes scan the page. “Bucky, I know this may sound childish, but would you mind reading to me?” 

He turned to you in surprise, “You want me to read to you?” 

“Yeah, that's my favorite book and I feel like a could do with a little rest and relaxation. What better way is there to relax, than having someone read to you?” In truth, all you really wanted was to doze while listening to his voice. 

“Alright, doll.” he replied and slowly began reading the novel out loud. 

You grinned, making yourself comfortable. Eventually, you felt your eyes drooping, and you slowly sank down onto the couch, pillowing your head on Bucky's thigh. 

 

Sometime later, you were awakened by something vibrating beneath your cheek. “...The Hell?” you mumbled, raising up, only to realize that it was Bucky's phone vibrating in his pocket. 

Bucky, much like you, had dozed off. The book he had been reading was currently drapped over the arm of the couch and his cheek was craddled in the palm of his left hand as he slept. His phone continued to buzz, so you reluctantly shook him. 

“Hey, Bucky, wake up! Bucky!” 

“Hm?” he muttered sleepily. 

“Your phone's going off.” you said. 

“Oh.” he said, sitting up and pulling the device from his pocket. You scooted yourself into an upright position, sitting just beside his right shoulder so you could see the screen of his phone.

Looking at the number you asked, “Do you recognize the number?” 

“Yeah, it's Sam's.” he tapped the new message to open it. You looked away and laid your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes once more, only to open them a second later. You felt Bucky stiffen beside you and when you glanced up at him, you found his brow deeply furrowed. 

“What is it?” you asked. 

“There's been some kind of accident, Steve and some of the other's have been injured.” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back with a new chapter! I am so sorry for taking so long to post! I mean it's been months! I never meant for it to be so long in between updates, but work has been killer. I've had to get used to working three to five 12 hour shifts a week, so by the time I get home I'm so tired I just fall asleep, even on my days off. But the inspiration hit today and I reworked this chapter that has been sitting on my computer for the past six or seven months and here it is! I hope you enjoyed it and hopefully I won't leave you with that cliffhanger for very long. As always, leave comments and kudos if you wish!

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that's been sitting on my computer for a couple of months, since I saw some of the first Civil War trailers. So if it's terrible, please let me down easy or if you want more, let me know. I've got a little bit more written, so if the response for this little bit is good, then I'll post it too. 
> 
> *Note- The title "Invincible" is inspired by the song "Invincible" by Ruelle. It's a working title that I may change, I don't know yet. But regardless, it's a good song, you should check it out. 
> 
> ~DarkEnigma


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